


After the War

by parklygirl



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parklygirl/pseuds/parklygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the war, Harry returns to Hogwarts to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Another familiar face joins the staff that year as well, someone with whom Harry is all too familiar. But can one ever really grow out of a childhood rivalry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after the end of DH but before the epilogue

Harry looked into the crowd of eager faces and beamed. It hadn't been so long ago that he had been on the other side of the professors table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, waiting to be sorted, and completely unaware of the events that would unfold in the following seven years. "I'm certain he needs no introduction, but I would like to welcome him back to Hogwarts. After five years abroad as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic, Professor Potter will take over the position of teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." There were loud cheers from both the children as well as his new colleagues, especially the Herbology Professor and the Arithmancy Professor. Harry grinned at Neville and Hermione.

When the cheering had died down, Headmistress McGonagall continued. "As some of you may have heard, our Potions Master has left us for a lucrative job she was offered from the Ministries Research department."

Harry's smile faded as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick to attention.

"Her replacement comes to us from the Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning where he has taught Potions for five years. Like Harry, he too once sat amongst you in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. I present Professor Draco Malfoy." Draco entered the hall from the rear and strode with poise up to the professors table. There was loud applause from the Slytherin table and smattered polite applause from the other house tables. The Malfoys were cleared of any charges after Voldemort died, but there was still a general distrust of the family as there was of any family that had been associated with Voldemort's side in the war. Most of the families had left England all together. Harry remembered reading that the Goyles had even fled to America.

Harry focused his attention back to the blond man who had once been his nemesis as he took a seat at the end of the table. Malfoy gave a polite smile (though not a sneer, Harry noted) as he nodded curtly to the other professors. Harry studied him. He looked much better than he had only five years ago. The gaunt, fearful expression was gone and was replaced by that smooth almost charming arrogance that had always made him popular with the ladies. But unlike the face of Draco Malfoy he had known before, this one did not have the nasty look of anger and loathing that had accompanied the haughtiness. No, this Draco Malfoy was nothing but elegance and confidence.

The Headmistress had continued with her beginning of term announcements and Harry noticed that Malfoy was still getting looks from both the ladies of the faculty as well as the female students. Harry grinned in spite of himself. At that moment, he caught Malfoy's eye. Draco had a questioning eyebrow raised at the cause of Harry's amusement. Embarrassed, Harry looked away.

After classes, Neville, Hermione and Harry had agreed to meet up at the Three Broomsticks. As he gathered his friends, he heard a voice behind him say "Professor Potter? A word?"   
Harry turned and saw Malfoy.

"Go ahead, I'll catch you up," he told his friends. Neville didn't move for a moment and was eyeing Malfoy distrustfully. "Really," he added firmly when they didn't budge.

"Can always count on Hogwarts to find Harry Potter and his groupies," Malfoy said mildly. "Some things never change."

Harry was about to retort when he noticed the expression on Malfoy's face. It wasn't hostile, it was amused and nostalgic. "Merlin, we've come a long way," he continued. He shook his head in amazement.

"Didn't figure you for a sentimentalist, Malfoy," Harry replied in what he hoped was a similarly light tone.

Draco shrugged. "It happens. Especially being back here. I swear, it's like I never left."

Both men looked around them for a moment.

"So, you said you wanted a word with me about something?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, actually," Draco came back to the moment as well. "I wanted to speak with you at some point about perhaps having a few joint Potions/Dark Arts classes for the seventh years."

Harry was gobsmacked. Draco must have noticed, but continued, "I think it might be useful to do a little cross-curriculum teaching since our fields intersect in certain ways. Something we tried at Durmstrang, and it proved to be quite successful."

Harry said after he had let the words sink in and nodded slowly. "Definitely. We can get together and discuss the details tonight if you'd like."

"Aren't you meeting your friends?" Draco reminded him.

"Oh yeah. All right, tomorrow after lunch?"

"Perfect."

"See you then, Malf… Draco," Harry said, catching himself.

"Looking forward to it, Harry." Draco gave him another one of amused, smug smiles that Harry was rather beginning to like, now that it had lost the unpleasant overtones of years past. They were about to part when Draco added "oh, and what was it that you found so amusing when I caught your eye at lunch today?"

"Huh? Oh!" Harry blushed. "Nothing, just noting that you haven't lost your touch. All the women in that room had their eyes glued to you."

"Did they?"

"Nice attempt to look surprised, Malfoy," Harry said with a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

"And no one told me Malfoy was joining the staff because…?" Harry trailed off expectantly.

"No one knew, Harry, honest!" Neville exclaimed.

"Great, McGonagall is pulling Dumbledore's old tricks now. Where's Ron? He should be here by now."

"He's checking on a property down the street, he said he'd be here soon," Hermione assured him.

"Doesn't he own all the property in Hogsmeade?" Neville asked with a grin. Their boyhood chum had turned into quite the real estate mogul since he left school.

Hermione smiled proudly. "Almost."

"What'd Malfoy want anyway?" asked Neville, taking a sip from his pint class.

"'Draco,'" Hermione corrected. "If he's going to be a colleague, we need to treat him with the proper respect," she added.

"Absolutely right," Harry replied forcefully, much to their surprise. He then told him what Draco had proposed.

"That's a brilliant idea," Hermione exclaimed. Her face lit up as it always did when something school-related excited her. "I wonder if we can do the same thing across other departments. Neville, your field crosses Potions quite easily, maybe you can work out a similar arrangement with Draco."

Neville made a face. "That's all right, I think I'll pass," he said sourly.

"Oh come now," Hermione chided. "If Harry of all people can put his and Draco's differences behind them, we should be able to do so as well. And good for you, Harry, for letting bygones be bygones."

"Actually, it was Draco who made the first move on that one," Harry mused aloud. "I just followed his lead."

Hermione looked surprised, but then nodded in that sage way that Harry had always found half amusing, half exasperating. She always seemed to think she had figured out things before the rest of them. And annoyingly, she was generally right.

"Sorry I'm late, mates," they heard a voice say. Ron stood over them with a grin. "Have you been keeping my wife out of trouble?"

"Yep, going on five years straight now," Harry said, smiling wryly.

"Rosmerta, a round of firebeers for the house," Ron said after giving Hermione a quick kiss.

"I guess the deal went well?" Neville asked.

"Smashing success."

"Well, not to throw cold butterbeer on your parade, but guess who's teaching at Hogwarts?"

"I suspect Draco Malfoy?" Ron replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the fact that he knew something before them.

"And you didn't tell us?" Neville demanded. But Harry had been an Auror for five years. A very good one.

"He didn't tell you, Neville. But Hermione, you knew," he said quietly, surprising them all.

"Of course she didn't!" Neville said hotly.

"Yeah, sorry mate, she kind of did," Ron said with a side-long glance at his wife.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said genuinely. "I'm the one who talked you into teaching and I didn't want that that to scare you away. And good work with your legilimency!" she couldn't resist adding.

Harry smiled. Only Hermione would praise him on a skill used against her.

"Still, you didn't need to deceive me," he said. "I'm not a child. I would have come anyway."

"I just didn't think you would be keen on having your arch-nemesis sitting at the teacher's table with you every day in the great hall," Hermione explained.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly. "I killed my arch-nemesis. Malfoy was just a bully I butted heads with as a child. I suspect he's had a fairly rough time of it these past few years." Harry let his words sink in.

"You're right, I'm sorry, Harry."

"Just don't keep things from me. You never let me keep them from you lot." He smiled to lighten the mood.

"Plus, she's sexy when she's wrong. Which she never is!" Ron added, stealing a quick kiss. Hermione swatted at him, but she too was smiling, And her eyes were shining with a newfound respect for Harry that he found a little disconcerting.

"Save it, you two," Neville said to Ron and Hermione. "Some of us are still single."

"Hey, how's Ginny?" Ron asked Harry. Ginny was travelling through Asia with her Quidditch team.

"She's brilliant," Harry smiled when he thought of his girlfriend. "I try to apparate to see her games when I can, but it's hard to apparate that far, takes several trips. Plus we agreed that I needed to focus on this new job and she needs to stay on track with her game, so we may not see each other as much as we'd like. Anyway," he looked pointedly back at Ron. "What do you know about Malf… Draco being here the same year I'm here?"

"I don't know anything about that, but what I do know is that he just sold me a retail lot down the street. I have a tenant all lined up to sell muggle artefacts. Great location, right across from George's store. Gave me a good deal too."

"Why would he do that?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Why not?" Ron asked, genuinely surprised. "Harry, we're not kids anymore. Forgive and forget, yeah? Especially if both parties get a good deal out of it."

"Blimey, you sound like your wife," Harry muttered. "You don't think it's the least bit suspicious?"

"Not at all. The Malfoys are selling a lot of their property. Their money is drying up, has been since the war was over, and from what I gather, Draco is closing on quite a few properties in the area while he's teaching at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. He guessed that made sense. Hearing Ron explain business so practically had long since been strange to Harry's ears. Ron was a natural tycoon.

Hermione quickly brought Ron up to speed on their discussion and Harry remembered that Hermione had been about to say something.

"What was it you were going to say earlier about why Draco wanted to work with me?"

"What? Oh, I just think that since he's all but cut ties with his parents, he might be reaching out, trying to find friends."

"With me?"

"You saved his life. On several occasions," Neville pointed out.

"Sure, but that doesn't mean he has to…"

"Harry, stop being so suspicious of his motives," Hermione said, frustrated. "Dumbledore always gave him a chance, and now it seems like he's really trying. "And," she added with a grin, "He's still easy on the eyes, no matter how much of a blighter he's been in the past."

"Stupid git always did have a million girls after him," Neville grumbled at the same time Ron said "Hey!" to his wife.

Harry said nothing.

 

As he headed to lunch the next day, Harry saw Draco was already seated at the professors table. "Harry! Join me," Draco called, gesturing the seat

Uncertainly, Harry took the seat next to Draco. "Professor Potter," Draco nodded at him with a slight smile.

"Professor Malfoy," Harry returned. Once again, he found himself staring at the young man with whom he'd shared such a turbulent past. Draco met his look and gave him that wry, half-smile that all the girls found so sexy. And Harry had to admit that he wasn't immune to it himself. He shook his head, amused at his own thoughts.

"How are your classes going?" Harry asked politely.

"Fairly well, thank you," Draco responded easily, as if they had always been casual friends. "Though," he added, "I've been a teacher for awhile now. It's pretty old hat. How are you settling in?"

Harry was quiet, still somewhat flummoxed at having what could pass as a normal conversation with a person he had hated for his entire teenage life. "That well?" Draco asked when Harry didn't respond. He gave Harry a teasing smile that did nothing to calm Harry's nerves. Of course, he reflected, it was only natural that he would be edgy around Draco. Their past was built on it. But as he looked at that sexy smile, Harry knew that the uneasiness was not based on feelings of distrust. And Harry had felt this before. Very recently, in fact. Great, he thought. I haven't even had a chance to explore this for myself let alone deal with having these feelings surface with Malfoy of all people!

"I'm fine, thanks," Harry said, a little more stiffly than he had intended.

"Splendid. And how are things with, um, how shall I put this?" he pretended to choose his words. "The only attractive Weasley?"

"Bill?" Harry asked surprised. He blushed as he realized to whom Draco had been referring.

Draco laughed. "All right, yes, as much as it kills me to admit it, Bill, even as a partial werewolf, is bloody gorgeous. However, I meant Ginny." His eyes were dancing with laughter. But it was playful, friendly laughter, not the angry jeering. And it was beautiful. This new side of Draco was intoxicating. Their eyes locked.

"Everyone? Please take your seats!"

The headmistress broke them out of their stare. Harry looked over at Professor McGonagall. He may be able to think of Malfoy as Draco, but he knew he would never be able to think of Professor McGonagall as "Minerva." With surprise, Harry noticed that Hermione had, at some point, quietly taken the seat on the other side of himself. Harry had had his   
attention fully on Draco, but he knew Draco must have seen her. Well, if Draco's friendship wasn't going to extend to Harry's friends just because they weren't pureblood, Harry didn't care how that look from Malfoy was making him feel. He could just shove off.

After the announcements and dinner commenced, however, Hermione smiled at them both. "I didn't want to interrupt," she explained. "Professor Malfoy," she acknowledged him.

"Hermione, it's lovely to see you," Draco said smoothly, voice oozing with charm. He took her hand and actually kissed it! Her! Harry thought he might faint from the shock. "I'd like to take you and your husband out to dinner sometime in the next couple of weeks if you have time."

Harry searched his face, ready to punch it for any sign of mocking, but there was none. He was sincere and charismatic and Hermione was turning pink with pleasure.

"I'll speak with Ron. I think we would both like that. He was pleased with the deal you cut him on that property in Hogsmeade."

"The debt is mine. That store was an albatross the day father gave it to me," Draco returned graciously. If Harry's eyes had gotten any wider, they would have popped out.

"Now if you don't mind, I'd like to steal Harry for awhile to discuss some rather interesting ideas I have for lessons this year."

Draco certainly knew his audience. Predictably, Hermione brightened. "Of course! Harry told us about your idea for some cross-curriculum plans. I think it's brilliant!" Hermione grew pinker, realizing she was gushing.

"I certainly hope it will be. Excuse us?"

Hermione nodded. But when Draco's back was turned, she caught Harry's eye and winked at him. Damn, that girl was far too observant for her own good.


	3. Chapter 3

They relocated to Harry's office, where they settled on an over-stuffed couch. Harry realized that this meant they would be skipping lunch, but he found he didn't care. Harry's office was rather large. McGonagall had promised to make the deal very sweet if he agreed to leave the ministry to teach DADA, and this was one of the provisions. Still, with Draco there, Harry suddenly felt self-conscious. He smiled sheepishly. Draco returned it with an amused, almost smouldering one of his own. Harry felt his stomach churn a bit. Then his instincts kicked in. "What's your angle, Malfoy?" he asked in a low tone, his eyes narrowed. He wanted to ask Malfoy if he was using a charm on him, but unfortunately, he didn't think that he was. Plus, Harry would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that Draco had gotten under his skin.

"So, Bill Weasley then?" Draco asked him. If he had meant to throw Harry off guard, it had worked.

"What?"

"Instead of your lovely girlfriend, your immediate instinct was to call Bill Weasley the only attractive one in that family." Draco's lips curled in what Harry instantly recognized as the Malfoy sneer. Without thinking, Harry reached for his wand.

"Easy there," Draco said quickly, his tone changing. He put a hand on Harry's knee. The gesture shot a spark of desire through him and he forgot everything except Draco's hand. "Let go of the wand," Draco said in a low tone. Harry obeyed, though he had no idea why.

"I hate that look you get," Harry said meeting his eyes. "That horrible sneer that you have." To his surprise, Draco laughed.

"That sneer, Harry, isn't about you. It never was."

"What?"

"That sneer is about me. Loathsome, little me. A fantastic defence mechanism I acquired for when I am angry at myself and don't want anyone to see it." His fake smile was a combination of disgust, sadness and self-deprecation that Harry found heartbreaking.

"But that was your default expression in school," Harry argued, not understanding. It had practically been Malfoy's trademark.

Draco met his eyes squarely. "Yes, it was."

"So all those times…" Harry's mind was reeling. What a stupid child Harry had been. Of course Draco was insecure back then! He was a teenager. Everything he had said or done had been to impress his own peer group. The obviousness of it made Harry feel unerringly stupid.

"Now, back to Bill Weasley," Draco said with a grin. "He is, as you have surmised, incredibly hot. So, is he single or   
is he still with that annoying French veela?" Draco asked in that same teasing tone as earlier. He gave Harry a lascivious, knowing look.

"Don't look at me like that either," Harry snapped.

"Really? You're actually going to deny that you're…"

"I'm not denying anything," Harry said quickly, "I'm just saying you don't have the right. You aren't my mate, Malfoy. You don't get to jump right into these familiar assumptions without earning it."

Draco sighed. "You're right, I apologise. But I am trying, Potter. I really am. I don't… exactly know how to do this. Especially not with you."

"And 'this' means…" Harry's tone was acid.

"Actively trying to befriend someone," Draco replied stiffly, matching the tone exactly.

"Well when you make it sound like a chore…" Harry knew he was being churlish, but he couldn't help himself. Suddenly, he was fourteen again.

"Don't be tiresome, Potter."

"What happened to 'Harry'?"

"Oh such a very good question," Malfoy rejoined, pouncing on the double meaning. "Yes, what _did_ happen to straight-as-an-arrow Harry?" The tone was mocking and vicious, a tone that Harry remembered all too well. This was the Malfoy he knew how to deal with. Harry jumped to his feet and drew his wand. To his shock, Malfoy did not make a move.

"Attack an unarmed man, do we now? You _have_ changed." Malfoy sat on the couch, arms casually by his side. Harry could see they were itching to reach for his own wand. But he hadn't.

Harry froze, he lowered his wand and wordlessly put it away. He had almost…

Harry cursed quietly. "Sorry. Old habits," he said in such a quiet voice, that Malfoy barely heard him. Harry sank back down on the couch. "Sorry," he repeated, this time looking Malfoy in the eyes. "I really am sorry, Draco. It's just…"

"We do have our share of history, don't we?" Draco said bitterly.

Harry peered at him for a moment. Draco Malfoy. He and his family had fallen hard after Harry had killed Voldemort. Narcissa had saved Harry's life, but only to use him to save Draco's. And Harry had saved his life as well. History indeed.

"I can't believe you came back to England," Harry said, considering it all.

"I nearly didn't," Draco said matter-of-factly. "Those five years at Durmstrang were spent reconciling my entire upbringing with the events that took place the night of the war. It wasn't easy, but I had a healer, and she was brilliant. She helped me deal with things I never knew I felt. And the way I just followed whatever my father said…" He trailed off, clearly disgusted with himself.

"Draco, he was your father," Harry said softly. "How could you _not_ follow what he said? I would have given anything to have a father growing up, and I can imagine I would have followed him to the ends of the earth."

Draco smiled bitterly. "Better no father than mine."

Harry said nothing. In a way, Draco was now an orphan too. Impulsively, Harry took his hand. "I can help," he said.

Draco smiled ruefully, but closed his hand around Harry's. "Of course you can. Because that's what you do," the words were said tiredly. He laced their fingers together and the more-familiar charming, cocky look came back to his eyes. "Now, about this other thing…" he said slowly leaning into Harry. Draco then pulled him into a kiss. For a moment, Harry melted into it, his head spinning in confusion, wariness, arousal, and above all, a feeling of being out of control. It was this last feeling that made his Auror training kick in. Quick as a flash, he threw up Occlumency shields and pushed Draco away. Draco had been an enemy once and his Auror training was not ready to register him as anything other than a threat.

He stood up grabbing his wand. It took every ounce of willpower not to point it at Draco. "I said no, Malfoy," Harry said furiously. He didn't know if he was more annoyed at himself or Malfoy, but at that moment, his eyes held nothing but hatred towards his old adversary. Why couldn't Malfoy have just let things be?

Without another word, Harry stormed out.


	4. Chapter 4

Still shaking with anger, Harry met Hermione at the Three Broomsticks that evening. Ron had returned to London, so he wouldn't be joining them for awhile. The place was crowded, but Hermione (because of Ron owning the place) and Harry (because he was Harry) could always get a table. Harry waved at some of their colleagues and Hermione chatted with a few before she took her seat across from Harry at their small table.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asked.

"Huh? Yeah," he said trying to clear his mind. He managed to force out a small smile, but Hermione was unconvinced.

"You look… odd."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Oh you know what I meant," Hermione said with a smile. "You looked upset is all. Everything all right?"

"Yes," Harry said firmly, and Hermione knew him well enough to leave it.

Hermione began chatting happily about her first day and was quick to tell Harry that the students seemed to really like him. "I knew you'd be a natural at teaching. You always were."

Harry forced his attention to Hermione. "I wasn't so sure at first," he admitted. "Before, when I was giving tips to DA, it felt like our lives depended on it. I was trying to keep people alive."

"And now?"

"I guess it's the same," he said slowly. "I'm teaching the kids things that I hope they never have to use."

"That's not all you are doing, Harry. You're teaching them to have a healthy respect for the magic they have at their disposal. And in the wizarding world, that can never be overstated enough."

Harry considered that for a moment. Both he and Hermione had grown up in the muggle world, so by the time they began to learn about magic, they already had a sense of awe for the wizarding world. Many of these kids grew up with magic and Harry suspected it would be easy to take that for granted. Harry's class was designed to show them what could happened if you ever did lose perspective on that.

"You really are kind of a genius," Harry said to his friend.

"Thanks!" she still turned pink when complimented. "So, how are things with Draco?" she asked.

Harry's face darkened. "I don't want to talk about him," he said coldly.

"That truce didn't last long," Hermione said, concerned. "What happened? Did you two get into it again? It was starting to seem like you two were getting on." Again, Hermione gave him a sly, knowing look.

"I won't be associating with him any more," he said simply.

"But the Dark Arts-Potions classes!"

"That will have to wait until next year when there's a different DADA instructor."

"Harry, what did he do? He's not…" Hermione's eyes widened in fear, a look that Harry had never wanted to see on any of his friends' faces ever again.

"No, he isn't turning," he assured her quickly. "It's just… look, there's some bad blood between us, and I guess that's just always going to be there," he said. "He's a good teacher- brilliant, in fact- and he's in no danger of ever going to Dark again, but as far as he and I are concerned…" Harry sighed. "I guess there are some people that aren't meant to be friends." Hermione noted the sad tone in his voice. He had gotten close to Draco, she realized, if he was sad to be losing his friendship.

"That's really too bad," she said kindly. "He is a good bloke. But I guess you can't be friends with everyone. Maybe it is too late for you two. I just wish that the kids didn't have to suffer from your animosity towards each other." She wasn't saying this chidingly, just regretfully. She really did believe that the cross-curriculum idea was innovative and valuable. And anything that could help prepare the kids… well, that was something Harry was going to need to think about. He knew from reading some of Draco's published potions books that they would be well matched in their respective departments to come up with some great activities and lesson plans. But could he really work with the man whom, when he didn't want to hex him into next week, wanted to snog him senseless? Angrily, he pushed that thought away. Draco was forcing both his friendship and… other things, and Harry didn't want any of it.

"May I join you?"

"No," Harry said giving him a glare that would kill a basilisk.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished him. To Draco she said, "Certainly, Draco. Don't mind Harry, he's in a mood."

"Not a problem," Draco said easily, conjuring a chair beside Harry. "Harry and I just have some childhood issues to work through, but it will all be fine. Takes time to heal some wounds," he said to Harry. Harry felt himself softening towards him, then he felt the warning, then the shields were up again. Draco noticed and sighed.

"So have you two had a chance to work out any lesson plans yet?" she asked brightly. Harry shot her a glare. Hadn't they just been over this?

"No, actually, that's what I came to talk to you about," Draco said to her. "I'd like you to brainstorm with us if you think you might have the time."

"I'd love that!" Hermione exclaimed. She snapped her mouth shut, embarrassed at her own enthusiasm, and both men had to smile.

"Great, well if you are both available tomorrow…"

"Yes!"

"Busy."

"Harry!" Her tone was back.

"Oh all right. If Hermione is there." Harry supposed talking over some ideas wouldn't be the end of the world.

They then noticed Neville waving Hermione to come over to his table. Hermione bit her lip and looked at Draco and Harry.

Harry sighed. "Go ahead, we'll try not to kill each other," he muttered.

"Good! I'll be straight back," she promised.

"I really loathe you, Malfoy," Harry said as soon as she was away. He met Draco's eyes squarely.

"Yet you can't seem to take your eyes off me," Draco nearly purred the words as he moved in close, almost whispering in Harry's ear. Unsurprisingly, Harry felt himself get hard.

"Save it Malfoy. You're lucky I didn't _expulso_ you the minute you sat down."

"You're going to pretend I don't have an effect on you? That you don't want me?" Draco put a hand on Harry's leg. Harry jumped up as if he had been burned, grabbed his wand, and shouted _"Everte Statum!"_

The blast sent Draco sprawling backwards in the chair and onto the floor. His robes were in disarray and there, covering his chest, was his bare arm, the Dark Mark clearly revealed. Harry looked around in horror. The pub was silent. The surprise (and more than a few satisfied looks) on the adults' faces was one thing. But the look of confusion and shock on the children's faces was devastating. Harry raced over to Malfoy and helped him to his feet.

"Professor Malfoy," he said loudly, his voice shaking. "I apologise. That was inexcusable. If you'd like to report me, I'd be all too willing to go with you to the ministry and confess my offence." He offered Draco his wand, a sign of deference and surrender.

Draco waved it away. "No harm, done Professor Potter. That will teach me to shoot my mouth off," he said dryly. "Though you might want to watch that temper of yours around the students," Draco added, his voice reproachful.

Harry nodded. He wondered how far he had set back Draco's re-entrance into the wizarding world with his childish, yet dangerous reaction. "Let me escort you back to the castle to make sure you're alright?"

"I'd appreciate that."

Harry glanced at Hermione who mutely indicated she'd take care of the bill.

Once outside, Harry leaned against the wall of the pub and took a shaky breath. He sank to his knees, trying to bring himself under control. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Easy there," Draco said. Thankfully, Draco didn't try to make a move to touch him.

Harry slowly met his eyes.

"Draco, I… that was absolutely unforgivable of me."

"Well, if it were Unforgivable, I suspect I'd be a bit worse off," Draco said with a smile.

"You don't think I'd ever do that, do you?" Harry asked, amazed that Malfoy would even suggest it. But at the moment, he wasn't sure himself. It had been a blinding rage that had forced him use the Hurling Hex on Malfoy. Would he have gone so far as to use the Cruciatus or Imperious Curses if Malfoy had said something to make him even angrier?

"Not a chance. Not your style," Draco said softly. "Come on Harry," Draco said with a grin. "Let's go back to the castle. Try not to kill me on the way."

"Try not to give me a reason to," Harry said quickly, his competitive nature getting the best of him. He got on his broom and sped towards the castle. Not to be outdone, Draco pursued. Harry dismounted first and smiled gleefully at Draco, who was close behind him.

That's when Harry saw the Headmistress coming towards them. "Uh oh," Harry said under his breath.

"I'd like to see you both in my office," she said without preamble.

Out of habit, Harry immediately glared at Draco who, for the same reason, glared back. Getting into trouble at Hogwarts felt far too familiar to Harry.

"Now then," Minerva McGonagall began when they were both seated. "Professor Potter, is it true that you attacked Professor Malfoy, unprovoked, in the Three Broomsticks tonight in the presence of no fewer than 40 students?"

Harry flinched. Had there really been that many? There were plenty of magical means for having been able to calculate the number, so Harry didn't doubt the accuracy.

Still.

"I wouldn't say 'unprovoked,'" Harry said stubbornly.

Draco snorted. "I touched his knee under the table," Draco said with the same derision that had driven Harry crazy when they were in school.

"Is this true, Professor Potter?" the Headmistress asked.

Draco smirked triumphantly.

"Yes," Harry acknowledged lamely.

"Very well." She turned to Draco. "And was this the first time you had sexually harassed Professor Potter?"

Both Harry and Draco looked at her incredulously.

"What?" they said in unison.

"Professor Malfoy," McGonagall said knowingly. "This isn't the first time you've tried to have it off with one of your colleagues we both know it."

Harry couldn't resist a sneer of his own.

"This is outrageous!" Draco exploded. "Once again, I'm the victim and once again Potter gets off scot-free?"

"Bit of a selective memory there, Malfoy?" Harry muttered. The headmistress gave him such a glare that he clamped his mouth shut.

"I seem to recall talk of you and Professor Thomas at Durmstrang…" she said mildly to Draco.

"Thomas? Not Dean? He's gay?" Harry couldn't resist bursting out. "Blimey, what else happened while I was away?"

"Dean and I were dating, our relationship was above-board," Draco said smoothly, ignoring Harry. "It was consensual, everyone knew that."

"His wife?"

Draco couldn't resist a lascivious grin. "Admittedly, she was not part of that consent, no."

"As an employee, you should have disclosed your relationship to your headmaster," McGonagall said sternly.

Draco smiled at her, understanding where she came by her information. "You're right, of course," he said with a great deal of charm. "But I would never neglect to tell you, headmistress, if I became involved with anyone here," he promised.

"Very well. Professor Potter? You, however, could be said to have over-reacted to Professor Malfoy's advances. There are procedures in place for this very purpose and casting a hurling hex is notably not one of those procedures."

"I know, I'm sorry," Harry said, genuinely contrite.

"I understand you apologised to Professor Malfoy?"

"Yes. It will not happen again." He met her eyes squarely, then offered his hand to Draco. "Draco, I apologise."

"Not a problem," Draco said easily, accepting his hand. But he still had that same snide yet guarded expression that seemed to be his default.

"And I intend to talk to each of my classes about the hastiness of my actions," he added to Professor McGonagall. "I know I'm a role model to the students," he said seriously. "My Professors always were to me, those who died and those who are still alive." Harry felt himself blush and he gave her a small, embarrassed smile. "And that's a responsibility I don't take lightly. What I did was not acceptable and they should know that." McGonagall was silent for a moment as her eyes misted slightly.

"Kiss-up," Draco muttered.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry's eyes flashed angrily. "You'll never know what it feels like to have genuine admiration for another human being!"

"You have no idea what I feel, Potter," Draco shot back. "Don't presume that you're the only one who lost people in the war. You don't know what I've been through! You always were and always will be a coddled, self-righteous git who's had everything handed to him his whole life."

Harry, remembering the Dursleys, laughed bitterly. "You don't know anything about me, Malfoy. You never did."

"Boys!" McGonagall practically screamed. She flushed for a moment."I mean 'Professors.' Professors who are acting like   
children," she added reproachfully. "That is enough!" She sighed and took a moment to collect herself. "It appears I was imprudent in hiring you two at the same time. But I thought that you had grown up."

"No, Professor, you were imprudent in not telling me that _he_ was going to be teaching here," Harry interrupted, jerking his head at Draco. He knew he sounded truculent, but really, she should have thought to at least give him a heads-up.

"_Mister_ Potter," she said icily. "You are out of bounds. Draco Malfoy has five years of teaching experience and has won accolades and Awards of Merlin for his published works. He is more than qualified for this position. And I do not need to check with you when I hire someone at my school."

She let that sink in for a moment as Harry realized that he had been incredibly presumptuous.

"And you, _Mister_ Malfoy," she turned, "would do well to remember that Harry saved not only everyone in the wizarding world but also you directly!"

"After my mother saved him," Malfoy couldn't resist adding.

"Really, Malfoy? You want to go down that road?" Harry asked, his voice cold. Narcissa had saved him but only because he had revealed to her that Malfoy was still alive. He often wondered what she would have done had Malfoy been dead and Harry been forced to deliver that news instead. Would he be here today?

Draco, to his credit, did not reply, as he knew exactly what the terms of Harry's life had been. He had been none too happy with his mother when she had told him. It was one of the final things she had said to him before he left his parents forever. It sickened him. And it had been the beginning of a long road of attempting to change his entire upbringing without hating himself in the process.

"This was a mistake," Malfoy said finally. "I'll leave tonight."

"No, Draco!" Harry found himself saying. "I mean, it should be me. The headmistress is right. You have actual teaching credentials and you're brilliant at potions. I'm just a celebrity, that's all. The children need good teachers."

Draco studied him for a moment, searching his face. Harry grew uncomfortable and looked away.

"It's really not an act, is it?" Draco finally said in awe. "You're really that ludicrously, stupidly humble." Draco smiled and shook his head. "You stay, you ponce. I couldn't even begin to compete with the man who taught an army of school kids how to go up against Death Eaters, then who himself killed the Dark Lor… I mean Voldemort." He smiled apologetically for the slip.

"I'd like you both to stay," Professor McGonagall said, matter-of-factly. "I'd just rather you weren't at each other's throats. The war is over, gentleman. And," she added softly, "so is your childhood. You need to let it go and let these children have the best one that they can."

Harry and Draco were stunned by her impassioned words. Draco was the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

"What do you say Harry? Truce? For the kids? Merlin knows they need all the help they can get. We certainly did."

"Truce." Harry agreed. He took Draco's hand warmly. A feeling of relief washed over them both as the met each other's eyes shyly, sheepishly.

They left McGonagall's office in silence, but without animosity.

"So, care to knockabout a quaffle?" Draco asked, filling the silence.

"Aren't you still injured from my blast?" Harry asked.

Draco grinned. "Fortunately for me, Potter, your heart wasn't really into that hex. That or you're just a crap wizard. Either way, I'm fine."

"Can't resist trying to get my goat, can you Malfoy?" Harry said. But he was relieved that Draco seemed okay. He knew that if had really wanted to do damage to Draco, he could have. And the thought that he hadn't was more than a little comforting.


	5. Chapter 5

Once out on the pitch, Draco and Harry soon found they were joined by some other staff members. Shortly, there were enough to make two entire teams. Dinner was just letting out, and many of the students had wondered out onto the field to watch their professors play. The cheers, the groans, the feel of the wind while being on a broom… Harry had missed this. He often felt jealous of Ginny. He could have easily gone professional, but the work at the ministry was demanding and there was no time. But it felt wonderful to be playing again, back on his broom, soaring over the castle. Looking at Draco, he could tell the Slytherin felt the same way.

A few hours so in, both caught sight of the snitch. Draco dove after it and for a moment, Harry just watched him. Clearly, Draco had been practicing manoeuvring. Harry hadn't had much of a chance of that whilst he was an Auror. Harry dove after him, trying to predict the snitches movements to head Draco off. But the few seconds of just being impressed with Draco's skill had cost Harry. In a magnificent display of athleticism, Draco stood up on the broom, jumped, then grabbed the snitch. Twenty feet in mid-air, he tucked into a ball for his landing. After a perfect, graceful roll, he stood up, out of breath, and held the snitch up high. The crowd exploded into applause and the sixth and seventh years shot off fireworks from their wands. Harry cheered louder than all of them, both out of respect for his new friend and also to give Draco a bit of a boost in the eyes of the faculty and students. Seeing how excited and pleased Harry was, the applause was not quick to die down.

Harry landed beside Draco, shook his hand and then grabbed him and gave him an enthusiastic thump on the back.   
Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, and as both sides had played exceptionally well (and the students had gotten a kick out of seeing their teachers play) their respective team mates congratulated each other. Harry and Draco were still discussing the game and perhaps getting together for a rematch as the others went back into the castle. They noticed the headmistress walking up to them with a smile.

"I should have known that this would be the one thing to bring you two together," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you both back on the pitch. I'm starting to feel a little more confident that you two will work out your differences," she paused. "I just wish Albus were here to see…" she said quietly, her voice trailing off. It occurred to Harry that while he had the luxury of some distance from the pain of losing Albus Dumbledore, McGonagall saw him in her office every day.

Both young men looked at each other uncomfortably, but fortunately, the McGonagall recovered quickly and wished them both a good evening.

"Guess we better go find our fellow team-mates," Harry said.

"I suppose so," Draco replied. "You played well tonight, Pott… Harry," Draco said.

"You too."

"Would you like to come up to my room and share a brandy?" Draco said softly. He put a hand lightly on Harry's.

Harry resisted the urge to snatch his hand away. He may have to work on re-training himself not to think of Draco as an enemy.

"Meet me in my room in an hour. Just to talk." He traced a finger over Harry's knuckles that were gripping the broom a little too tightly.

"Really? Just talk." Harry asked dubiously. He couldn't deny the jolts he felt through his body at Draco's touch, but it was far too soon to...

"Anything you say," Draco replied airily.

"Just to talk," Harry repeated firmly. Draco nodded innocently, but Harry rolled his eyes when he saw that evil twinkle behind them.

An hour later, Harry knocked on Draco's chamber door. He was nervous, but determined not to let his Auror training hinder trusting someone who had once been an adversary. Surely there had to be a way to make exceptions! Occlumancy was second nature to him now, but how could he train himself out of that when it was just so easy to think of Draco as an enemy. Thinking of Draco in any other way was just raising too many conflicting emotions.

"Welcome," Draco said as he let Harry in. Harry looked around at the large, private chamber. Clearly, the Malfoy name still had some pull. Or maybe it was just Draco. He was quite accomplished for someone at so young an age. Harry focused on his would-be friend for a moment. He wore a dark green silk shirt that clung tightly to his well-muscled torso and the black demins that hugged his ass perfectly. His blonde hair was wet and tousled around his face. He looked incredible. How had Harry never noticed this before? Oh yeah, he remembered. He was busy hating him

Draco was about to hand him a glass of brandy, two fingers full. But as he did, Harry jumped as though stung and quickly drew his wand.

"Don't ever try Legilimency on me again, Malfoy!" he snapped.

Draco sighed. "I guess it was too much to hope that your Occlumency skills were still shite, what with being an Auror and all." Harry had not lowered the wand and Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, Harry, I apologise. I shouldn't have done that. Now here, take your drink."

"You're making it very difficult to trust you," Harry said. He lowered his wand and took the proffered glass, but he was still scowling. "Look, if you want to know something, ask me straight out."

"All right, I shall. Are you attracted to me?" Draco grinned, seeing Harry's mouth drop. Draco looked at the ceiling and said. "This is why Legilimency is so much better."

"Yes."

"You agree? Good, let me try again and don't shield me."

"Yes, I am attracted to you." Harry downed the brandy in one gulp. What was he doing?

Draco smiled slowly and moved closer. "Harry," Draco said in a low, silky tone that oozed sexuality and charm. "Would it be all right if I kissed you?"

Harry tensed for a moment, then nodded. Draco pulled Harry into his arms and pressed his warm lips to Harry's with a deep sensuality that made Harry's knees buckle slightly. Harry kissed back, relishing the sweetness of this kiss. Draco had had something minty and the taste of his mouth was fresh and sweet. Draco nibbled on Harry's lip a little and his hands drifted down to his backside. Her pushed Harry closer, deepening the kiss. Each man felt the other's erect cock through their clothes. Harry moaned.

"This is just talking?" Harry asked, panting when they finally broke apart.

"Well, I figured that was you making up to me that you hexed me."

"Fair enough," Harry responded. He put a hand to Draco's hair and stroked it gently. "I love your hair," he said. Then he blushed. Men didn't say this kind of thing to each other. Harry had no idea what to do with a man as charming and obviously experienced as Draco. He was no longer a high school peer, but a new person that Harry couldn't quite pin down.

"So, how long have you been shagging men," Draco asked with a wicked smile. Harry _had_ told Draco to just ask him anything if he wanted to know it.

Harry's face coloured. "I haven't. I mean I don't. I mean… it's not like that. I've had a few… but they don't count because it was…" he fumbled. He looked down, mortified that he was babbling like an idiot.

He felt Draco's hand stroke the side of his face. Reluctantly, he met his eyes. He had never felt more vulnerable in his life. He would absolutely die if Draco mocked him now. But Draco simply kissed him softly. He felt Draco's hands unbuttoning his pants and his cock was straining at the zip underneath. Wordlessly, the Slytherin slid down to his knees. He smiled up at Harry, that sexy half smirk, and pulled down his pants.

"Malfoy!" Harry gasped, suddenly not remembering to call him by his first name.

Draco pulled his cock out of his pants and wrapped his lips around the tip, slowly, agonisingly taking in the full length of him. Harry threaded his fingers through Draco's hair and found himself pushing Draco's face further down. Draco responded eagerly and Harry moaned at the feel of his hot, wet mouth, his tongue swirling around his shaft, his other hand stroking and gently pulling at his balls. Moments later he came and Draco lapped up his come hungrily.

Draco stood up and helped Harry to the couch, inches away.

After a moment, Draco said, "That was your first? From a man I mean?"

"Yes," Harry said quietly. He didn't want to tell Draco that he hadn't needed to qualify it by gender. It was Harry's first, ever. Ginny hadn't liked doing that as he didn't like doing it to her, and they both were satisfied with just having regular sex. But Draco's mouth on him had been the absolute best sensation he could ever imagine. Coming in his mouth had felt so good and such a relief, not just physically, but to give himself to Draco in such a vulnerable way. It felt good to have been able to let his guard down. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the stress and anger of his childhood ebbing away. To his horror, Harry felt tears spring to his eyes. He forced them down.

"I have never met a man so in desperate need of a blow job, Harry," Draco said affectionately. "Come to bed with me?" Harry looked at him fearfully.

"I just want to hold you," Draco reassured him. "This time, I do promise. My word. On our friendship."

The intensity of Draco's question made him seem almost as vulnerable as Harry had felt only a few minutes earlier. He'd sooner drink every potion in Malfoy's lab then betray the new, tenuous trust.

"I'd like that."

In bed, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco whose back was to Harry. He felt Draco's movements as he proceeded to relieve himself. Harry let a hand drift down and silently, picked up where Draco had left off. His nimble fingers seemed to know just where to touch and stroke, where to put almost too much pressure, and where to linger. Draco had never felt anything like it. He came into Harry's hand with a loud shout.

Harry did a quick cleaning spell, then wrapped Draco in his arms.

In the middle of the night, when he was sure that Draco was still asleep, Harry crept out into his own chambers lest he be discovered by the house elves in the morning. With his wand, he cast a spell on the pillow beside Draco. "Thank you. For everything. Yours, H." Once the words on the pillow had been read by Draco, they would disappear.


	6. Chapter 6

The first week went by in a daze. Teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts was almost exactly the same as the days of Dumbledore's Army. At first, he was embarrassed by his notoriety. A student would say "is that how you defeated the Dark Lord?" or some such fan nonsense, and Harry was quick to play it down. But later, he realized that he could use his fame and append the story with some way in which he should have used a different tactic or curse or charm. It was an odd feeling, using his own experiences as a lesson for those students whom he hoped would never face these predicaments. When a third year student pointed out that a simple distracting charm would have worked far better than the _expelliarmus_ spell, he was both impressed and humbled. He immediately praised the child and awarded their house (Slytherin) 15 points. It was then that Harry truly understood the draw of teaching.

Harry and Draco had not met since that evening Harry had left the spell-note on his pillow. Harry had tried repeatedly to nail him down since they were supposed to talk about the brilliant cross-curriculum idea (amongst other ideas), but Draco seemed to be purposely evading him. He didn't even show up in the Great Hall for lunch. At first, he shrugged it off. They had had a night together, it had been good, maybe now it was over. Also, all teachers were incredibly busy with beginning of term. He didn't want anything sexual from the blonde Slytherin, but he did want to nail down time to talk about the Potions/DADA class. On Friday, he decided enough was enough. He cornered Draco after lunch in the Potions room.

"You've been avoiding me," Harry said without preface. But when he met Draco's eyes, he didn't see the charming sparkle (that still held more than a hint of arrogance). Draco's face was now hallow, dark and defeated. And despite how much it was clear that Draco needed a friend not a lover at that moment, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for himself as well. It was certainly a one night stand, that night between them (Draco's avoidance had made that clear) and Harry was okay with that if it's what Draco wanted, but it did still hurt.

"Yeah, so, what of it," Draco snapped. "Sod off, Potter." As a teenager, Harry might have done exactly that. But Harry was determined to prove that Hermione and Ron weren't the only ones who had grown up these past five years. Also, Harry did genuinely hurt for the man who obviously loved teaching but for whatever reason, had had nowhere near the success in his first week at his alma mater that Harry had.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry said abruptly, realising that his pride about "that night" was going to have to take a back seat. Draco needed him, and not in that way. "We're not going back to that teen-aged bullocks, we're getting out of here," he said determinedly.

"Like I'd go anywhere with you," Malfoy said.

Harry nearly stormed out, but then he realised that the retort was said out of habit. A reaction. Malfoy's heart wasn't in it.

"Come on, mate," he said quietly. "We're going to Hogsmeade to get a drink. You look like you need one. And don't argue for a bloody change," he said when he saw Malfoy about to protest.

Harry took them to Hog's Head which was a bit more shady than the Three Broomsticks, but at least there was less of a chance of having to deal with anyone from Hogwarts (unlike last time). With a beer in front of him, away from the castle, Draco looked moderately improved.

"So what's going on?"

"Nothing. Everything is bloody brilliant. And how are you, Potter?"

Harry forced him to meet his eyes. "Come on, Draco," he said gently. "I'm listening."

Draco seemed to have all but forgotten their evening together, and Harry tried not to be offended. Draco was hurting and was reverting back to default behaviour that was safe.

"Is it the kids? Something wrong?" Harry prodded.

"No, the kids are fine. Some of them even have real potential. The Slytherins, anyway," he smirked slightly. Harry ignored the jab and waited for him to continue. Draco took a long pull of his drink. "Let's just say some of the teachers have been less than inviting," he said with a bitter smile.

"How so?" Harry demanded. "Have they done anything?" The surge of protectiveness he suddenly felt towards Draco was both powerful and surprising.

"Ah, ever the steadfast Gryffindor, always trying to right all wrongs," Draco said with a sneer. But again, it was half-hearted.

"That look only works if your heart is in it," Harry noted. "I'm not buying it right now."

Draco sighed impatiently and ran a hand through his beautiful blonde hair. It was slightly longer than it had been at school, and Harry couldn't help noticing again how nice it looked as it fell perfectly into place around his face. Despite his own foul mood, Draco noticed Harry watching him. It seemed to cheer him up.

"Like what you see, Harry?" Draco asked with a sultry smile. He put his hand on Harry's leg under the table.

Harry laughed and removed his hand. "Remember the last time you tried that?" he teased. That won him a wry, admiring smile from Draco. "Anyways," he continued, his spirits lifting, "it's good to know you do still fancy me. You didn't owl, you didn't write... A bloke could get a complex."

"You were _born_ with a sodding complex!" Draco may have been out of sorts, but he couldn't resist the bait, which was exactly why Harry had set it out. He put a hand tentatively on Draco's.

"You're going to talk to me, Draco," he said softly. Draco didn't respond, but he didn't move his hand either. Harry chose to take that as a good sign.

Draco sighed again. "Really, it's not that big of a deal. I just had a bad week. But it's getting better," he said with a smile. He turned his hand up to gently finger Harry's palm. In a way it was more intimate than the blow job had been.

That was when Harry realised that in many ways, Draco hadn't changed. In school, he used bitterness and insults to hide himself. Now, he was using flirting and sex. Same idea. Though having been the target of both tactics, Harry certainly knew which one he preferred. Draco winked at him and took another sip of his drink. He was almost finished with the beer and tipped up the glass to get the remaining liquid. His eyes widened and he quickly put the glass down.

But it was too late. Harry had seen it.

"Merlin!" Harry breathed. "Roll up your robe sleeve!" he demanded, horrified at what he had seen.

"No. It's none of your damn business."

With all the concentration he had been taught, Harry murmured a few words and the sleeve shot up. There, to Harry's disbelief, was the Dark Mark, marred by red slashes. It was almost indistinguishable, the slashes were so many, and so close together.

"Bugger me!" Harry whispered. He glanced up at Draco who had gone white. Quickly Draco grabbed his sleeve and pulled it back down. For a moment he stared at Harry, amazed that he had been able to do a spell without his wand. Then realization spread across his face.

"Sodding Aurors," he muttered, annoyed, but still quite shaken up. Harry was able to do several spells now without his wand, but he used that power sparingly. It was also something he had not shared with anyone, even Ginny.

"What happened?" Harry demanded. "Who did this to you?"

"I have my suspicions, but you won't like them," Draco said with a glare.

"If you even suggest Hermione…"

"No, not her," Draco said quickly. "We made our peace awhile ago."

That was news to Harry, but he didn't want to get sidetracked.

"Then who do you… not Neville? Surely you can't believe he'd be capable…"

"Childhood trauma lasts a long time. Believe me, I know," Draco said curtly.

Harry was silent. He knew this as well. But he still couldn't believe Neville would do this to anyone.

"When did it happen?"

"They've gotten worse each night. I wake up, and my arm is covered in welts. I've tried anti-sleeping potions, protection charms. Hell, I've stopped eating in case my food has been hexed. Whoever is doing this is clever and certainly not a student."

That explained why he looked so ill. Harry signalled to the bartender. "Can I get some fish and chips?" he asked.

"And a refill?" Draco added, indicating his beer. "You don't expect me to do this heart-to-heart bollocks sober, do you?" he asked with a wry smile.

"Hardly," Harry agreed. He indicated his own glass as well. "So, you're sure it's not a student doing this?" he asked, getting back to the topic at hand.

"This is beyond even a seventh year student, Harry. Even a Granger," he said with a smile, seeing Harry's objection before it had been made. "The Dark Mark was a powerful bit of magic that could never be removed let alone altered in any way. Whoever is doing this…"

"Why haven't you told anyone?" Harry couldn't help exploding at him. "This is dark magic someone is performing on you and you kept this silent?"

Draco laughed derisively. "Do you honestly think that I'd find sympathy from anyone here?"

"What about the head of the Slytherin house? Armstrong?"

Draco snorted. "Pott… Harry, you've a lot to learn about Slytherins. If anyone in the wizarding world has a problem with ex-Death Eaters, it's other Slytherins. We gave them a bad name. For all I know, it _was_ Armstrong. There were plenty of Slytherins who didn't support the Dar… Voldemort. And they hate those of us who did."

"I guess you made things awfully hard for them," Harry said, understanding.

Draco looked like he wanted to argue, but he was at a loss. Defeated, he simply said "Yeah."

Harry leaned in and put a hand on Draco's arm where the defaced Dark Mark lay just underneath the robe. "Listen, whoever did this isn't going to get away with it," he said, determinedly. His eyes flashed angrily and Draco smiled.

"I never noticed how sexy you look when you get that do-gooder look," he said.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Draco's flirtatiousness. If Harry could have a time-turner to go back and tell himself… no, his younger self would have thrown duelling curse at his older self quicker than he could say "Quidditch."

"You were young and foolish. I can hardly blame you for not noticing how great I was," Harry replied with a cocky grin of his own.

Draco was stunned. Then he broke into a huge grin that made Harry weak. "Very good, Potter! You would have made a fair Slytherin."

"That's what they tell me," Harry said, more to himself. When he saw Malfoy's confused look, he quickly explained about the day he had been sorted into Gryffindor and the subsequent conversation he had had with the Sorting Hat.

Draco nodded. "It's probably one of the things that drew me to you originally," he said. It was Harry's turn to look confused, but then he remembered that same day, when he had turned down Draco's offer of friendship once he had seen him belittle Ron.

"I have an idea," Harry said suddenly. "I'll stay with you tonight in disguise and I will see who is doing this to you."

"Why Harry, you haven't even taken me out for a proper meal."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I mean I'll hide under my… under an invisibility charm. When whoever it is does what they are going to do, I'll confront them."

"I tried an invisibility charm. Wednesday. Woke up both visible and marked."

"This is different," Harry said. "Trust me. I'm an Auror. I'm trained for this."

That night, under his cloak, Harry entered Draco's chambers. He watched as Draco prepared for bed. Mesmerized by the elegance of his movements, Harry couldn't bring himself to reveal his presence. Finally, Draco stretched and began to remove his clothing slowly, sensually. Almost as though…

"You know I'm here, don't you?" Harry asked from under the cloak.

"I had a hunch, yes," Draco said, continuing to undress. He smiled, scanning the room easily for where he had heard the voice. "Still have your invisibility cloak, I see?"

Harry lifted the hood of the cloak and smiled. He knew that Draco had known he had the cloak. His smiled faded as he remembered the beginning of sixth year when he had hidden in Draco's compartment on the Hogwart's Express to eavesdrop. Draco had left the compartment, but then doubled-back to curse him with a _petrificus totalus_. Completely vulnerable, he remembered Draco's sneer as he covered him with the cloak with the intention of having the train take him back to London. He couldn't help but glare at Draco as he remembered that the teenager deliberately trod on his fingers as he left the compartment.

"I was young and impulsive, but you were spying on me," Draco reminded him with a raised eyebrow. Harry couldn't argue. "May I see the cloak?" Draco asked.

Obligingly, Harry removed the cloak and handed it over. Draco tried it on and walked over to a mirror.

"And this was your fathers?" Draco asked, taking the hood down as Harry had done.

"Yes."

Draco took off the cloak and handed it back. "I still can't believe that your father possessed one of the Deathly Hallows. Incredible."

Harry froze. "How…"

"Harry," Draco said tiredly, "I grew up with _The Tales of the Beedle Bard_. You don't think I couldn't put two and two together?"

"How long have you known?"

"Long enough to wonder if you know where the other two Hallows are, and long enough to have realized that it no longer matters. Not anymore." Draco gave him a reassuring smile.

He let the words sink in. The fact that Draco Malfoy could let something that powerful go when it had gripped Harry with an obsession bordering on madness was astounding. And Draco had been able to just move right past it.

"You would have made a decent Gryffindor," Harry said before he thought about it.

"For the sake of our tenuous friendship, I'll pretend you didn't say that," Draco said with a scowl. But Harry could see a twinkle in his eyes, and soon, the smile reached his lips.

"You should smile more, Draco. Your real smile. Not that horrid sneer…"

"We've covered this ground."

"I know I just can't get used to you."

"Sometimes I can't either," Draco said honestly. "It's very easy to fall back into old, destructive patterns."

"That sounds like a therapist talking."

"That was my healer. Muggles would call her a therapist. She, in fact, is a muggle, and 'therapist'' is what she called herself. Always sounded too… clinical to me."

"You went to a muggle therapist?" If Draco dropped one more bombshell on Harry, he wasn't sure he'd recover.

Draco was clearly enjoying this. As if reading his thoughts, he added "Ready for this one, Potter? It was Hermione who recommended her to me. Said she was a friend of her parents."

Harry couldn't speak.

"How… long ago was this?" he asked finally, not recognising the strained sound of his own voice. Draco picked up on it instantly.

"Long enough. And yes, she didn't tell you we were in contact. Get over it." He put a hand on Harry's arm to soften the words.

"Everyone seems so concerned that I'll fly off the deep end where you are concerned," Harry said, aware that he sounded a bit whingey.

"From what I hear, it's happened before. You've suspected me of a lot of things over the years. Not that I didn't deserve it," he added quickly, "But you had quite the vengeance out on me. It's almost flattering," he said nonchalantly.

"I'm going to kill Ron and Hermione."

"You really shouldn't, mate. Paperwork and all."

Harry smiled ruefully at him. He looked down at Draco's hand which at some point had begun stroking Harry's forearm reassuringly, but had now not stopped.

"Draco…" Harry said pointedly.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco responded innocently.

"You're going to be a difficult friend, I can see that."

"I was a difficult enemy. I'm apparently put on this earth to make your life..." he trailed a hand down to Harry's   
groin "… hard," he finished. Harry closed his eyes, relishing the feeling. He moaned softly.

"I know you've thought me and about the other night," Draco murmured. "Merlin knows I have." He then moved Harry's robe away to reveal his denims underneath. In a deft movement, Draco unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and slid a hand inside to caress Harry's cock over his boxers. Harry's brain was spinning. The sensation was so overpowering that he could barely breathe let alone speak. Draco had been right. He had thought of that night constantly this past week.   
Draco reached inside the boxers to pull out Harry's stiff member and expertly began massaging it, letting his fingers caress Harry's balls teasingly.

"Have you thought of me?" Draco repeated. His voice was thick with sultry desire and Harry couldn't resist another moan.

"Yes, Draco!"

Draco smiled. He had clearly figured as much. He leaned down to take Harry in his mouth, but Harry stopped him.

"Wait!" They could both hear that it took every ounce of Harry's willpower to say it.

"Oh, what now, Harry?" Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"Not tonight, okay? We need to focus. But don't think that doesn't mean I don't want you," he added and almost gave in. His eyes snapped open and he sat back from Draco. "I've had a lot to take in this past week, Draco. Really. I need time to get my brain around all of this. And we need to find out what's happening to you."

"I understand," Draco said. He put a hand to Harry's face. Wordlessly, he brushed his bangs aside to look at the scar.

"Yes, it's still there."

"I know, I've just never seen it up close," Draco said. He traced a finger along it, transfixed. "This little scar. This is what started everything. Our entire world changed because of this. No wonder you were such an insufferable wanker." He couldn't resist a teasing dig.

Though it was said almost lovingly, Harry couldn't resist saying "Hey!"

"I mean rightfully so, but still. What a load to place on an eleven year-old, yeah?"

"Glad you're finally coming 'round to that," Harry said, stiffening. He never liked this topic of conversation. "I never asked for any of it," he said bitterly.

"Yet all you ever did was handle it with a grace and bravery and humility that was so far beyond anything to which I could remotely relate," Draco said wonderingly.

The turn the conversation had taken was making Harry uncomfortable. Draco's hand on his stiff penis, he could take. Draco going fan-boy on him was another story all together.

"Right, let's get this Dark Mark thing sorted and we can talk about all of that later," Harry said standing up brusquely.

Harry took a spot on a chair near Draco's bed. He had had a strong cup of coffee earlier in the evening to keep him awake, and even worked out a charm that would keep him alert. Harry had brought some lesson plans to work on, and after a bit more teasing about Harry coming into the bed with him, Draco sank into his bed and closed his eyes. He seemed so much more relaxed than Harry had seen him all night. Harry also knew that Draco had been stalling. The teasing was masking the fear of going to sleep and it tore at Harry's heart that Draco had to live that way.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry watched over him all night. By dawn, he was still wide awake, his lesson plans completed well into the first half of the year. No one had come or gone into the room, and, using his Auror training, he detected not a single spell, curse or even house elf that came near the room. Maybe whoever it was had taken the weekend off.

As the sun was rising, Harry went over to Draco's sleeping form and sat on the bed beside him. He looked so incredibly beautiful that Harry's breath caught. Before he could stop himself, he touched Draco's platinum hair, falling around his face in a sexy dishevelment. Draco's eyes flickered open.

Harry suspected that the look of fear at seeing Harry was more a reaction to their past, and he gave Draco a moment to recover. To his relief, Draco smiled and pulled back the covers. "Join me," Draco said huskily, his voice still thick from sleep.

It looked so warm and Harry had been awake all night… but hadn't he wanted to take things slow? Ease into whatever this was? He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts.

"Let me see your arm," he said after a moment.

Draco's face fell and it was again replaced by fear. Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder to reassure him. "I promised you we'd figure this out," he reminded him gently. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Slowly, Draco pulled his arm from beneath the covers. From the wince on Draco's face, Harry knew the answer before he even saw his arm. There were fresh bloody slashes. The sheets had smears of blood under the covers where Draco's arm had been.

"I almost feel sorry for the house elves, having to clean these sheets this every morning," Draco said with a sigh.

"Almost?"

"Well," Draco said with a dismissive shrug. "They _are_ house elves."

That particular bit of prejudice was a battle Harry would have to work on another day. Today, he had a different task.  
"I don't understand how this is possible. I put up protection spells, barriers, alerts…" he trailed off in frustration. "Hmm, I wonder if someone else would have some ideas…" he mused aloud.

"No," Draco said instantly.

"You don't trust me?"

"You? Yes. Others? Not as such."

"Look, I just want to call my old boss. He was an Auror. And a very good one."

"Your 'old boss?'" Draco asked incredulously. "Your old boss who also happens to be the Minister of Magic?"

"Kingsley, yes."

Draco laughed in amazement. "Harry, not a chance in hell. Honestly!" Draco's tone brooked no further argument.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Draco!" Harry exploded. "Someone needs to help! Do you want to wake up every morning like this?"

"Not especially," Draco shot back. Draco rubbed his temples and sighed. "Look, I just don't exactly want this particular problem to be common knowledge." He looked away. Harry understood. The last thing he wanted to remind people of was that he had been a Death Eater.

Impulsively, Harry took his hand. "All right, we'll figure this out ourselves," Harry promised.

Draco nodded and laced his fingers through Harry's. "Thanks," he said.

Their eyes met, and Harry felt the surge of desire for his old nemesis that he had felt less than a week before. Draco felt it too. His face changed from haunted and scared to that swaggering, sexy look that Harry was finding extremely difficult to resist. Draco put a hand on the back of Harry's head. He leaned in, pulling Harry to him. Harry responded, transfixed by that smouldering look. When their lips touched, Harry felt something release inside of him. He pressed his tongue against Draco's, and began to move on top of him, pressing his erect penis against Draco's. But Draco, not to be outdone, deftly flipped Harry over and pushed him against the bed, grinding against Harry, his tongue wrestling for control. Harry smiled inwardly. If this was the manifestation of twelve years of competition between the two, he could live with that.

"Merlin, it feels good to finally have you beneath me," Draco murmured into his ear.

"Mmm, I'll let you get away with it this time," Harry said, he nipped him on the neck, then covered the bite with kisses, softly licking his smooth pale skin. Draco moaned, and Harry started to bite him harder. Draco clearly had a bit of a neck fetish, and Harry definitely wanted to explore that. But there was a time and a place for everything, and he knew that even though Draco definitely wanted this, he was also trying to distract Harry from the task at hand. Reluctantly, Harry rolled out from underneath him. Draco caught his hand and pressed it to his own cock over the pyjamas.

"Quick shag, then we'll get back to business?" he suggested with a leer. Harry couldn't resist stroking the outline of the bulge. He was already stiff himself, and he felt himself relenting. Then Harry felt something else, something that made him jump back from Draco and draw his wand.

"Draco, for fuck's sake, I told you to stay out of my head!" he exploded.

"Sorry, habit," Draco said contritely. It occurred then to Harry that since Draco had always been good at Legilimency and Occlumency in school, far before Harry had, it might just be more second nature to Draco.

"I shouldn't have done that," Draco said softly, seductively. "Come back to bed, we were having a lovely time."

Harry lowered his wand. "Snogging isn't going to fix _that_," he said indicating the Dark Mark.

"We won't know until we try," Draco said playfully.

"Do you ever give up?"

"Where you're concerned? Not bloody likely. I couldn't resist giving you a hard time back then and it looks like some things don't change," he said meaningfully looking at Harry's own bulge.

Harry ignored him. He had an idea. "Try to focus, Draco. I'm going to try a few things on the Mark," he said, again, raising his wand. "Don't worry," he said quickly as Draco immediately tensed up. "It won't hurt."

Draco rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and waited.

Harry muttered the spell, then waited. Shortly, the air around Draco twinkled, then faded, returning to normal.

"Hmm," Harry said thoughtfully. He tried the spell again, adding some other words, and whipped the wand downward as though slicing the air in front of Draco in half.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Harry saw it. Again, the air around Draco twinkled, then it turned bright green.  
"What is this?" Draco asked, warily eyeing the green particles around him.

"It's a spell detector charm," Harry explained. "Used to identify if anyone has used magic on something (in this case, you) within a certain timeframe, set by the caster."

"When… when did this happen?" Draco asked. The fear was back in his voice. Harry put a reassuring hand on his arm and it seemed to calm Draco.

"It looks like this happened about two weeks ago. And this one was tricky," he added. "It was covered by several different masking charms. I had a suspicion of that so I released the masks first."

"Two weeks ago?" Draco's brow furrowed. "I was in London. I have a flat there."

"Did you talk to anyone out of the ordinary? Did you see anyone strange?"

"I had a meeting with Ron Weasley," he said slowly, remembering. His attention turned back to Harry who was giving him an angry glare. "No, I'm not suggesting that Ron had anything…wait," Draco said remembering. Then he nodded, convinced. "Yes, that must be it. An old woman. I bumped into her in Diagon Alley. She mumbled something and walked away. I felt… strange.. saw something for a moment… but it went away." He shook his head to clear it.

"Was it a sort of haze? You saw green smoke?"

"Yes!" Draco looked amazed. A look of understanding came over his face. "The _Ego Nocere_," he said. He laughed bitterly. "How appropriate, don't you think?" he asked him.

The _Ego Nocere_ curse was designed so that the victim would end up creating the results him or herself. The woman had cast a spell to hurt Draco, but to hurt him in a way that he would find the most psychologically damaging.  
Harry, fully aware of the spell and its implications, found himself awkwardly avoiding Draco's eyes. "But it shouldn't have worked on a Dark Mark," he said after a moment. "Either its power is fading now that Voldemort is dead, or you so wholly despise having that mark that this spell worked its magic far deeper than I imagine the caster intended."  
"Or both," Draco said with a slow, shaky breath. His face was white. The insinuation that Draco had a powerful enough hatred to be able to mar his own Dark Mark clearly scared him.

Harry put a tentative hand on Draco's shoulder. He had been a Death Eater, and people hated Death Eaters. But he shouldn't be forced to suffer the attacks of others who were unwilling to let him repent. Especially when it was so clear now that he was punishing himself more than any time in Azkaban could do.

"The woman who did this to you, this stranger, she must have known you were a Death Eater. You were targeted." Harry said this softly, sympathetically.

But then Draco smiled, an odd, triumphant smile. Harry knew he was missing something.

"She was a stranger," he realized.

"So?"

"Come with me, Harry," he said, the haughty tone returning.

"Where?"

"Potions lab, of course."

Draco explained that there was a powerful potion that could be used to reverse the effects of curses from strangers. It was a very specific potion, but useful in hate crimes.

"The ministry used it when purebloods would attack muggles or half-bloods," he explained. "Now, watch and learn, Potter."

When Draco had brewed and drank the potion, he turned to look at Harry. They watched as the red marks faded, healed and Draco's arm returned to normal. The Dark Mark was still visible, of course, but the hex had been removed. A load seemed to be lifted from Draco and he gave Harry the most dazzling smile.

"Wait, why did you suspect the other teachers?" he asked.

"There have been some snide remarks is all," Draco said vaguely. "That's all. Unlike they are with you, not everyone here is thrilled to see me back at Hogwarts."

Harry's face grew angry, then determined. "Well, then that cinches it. The more they see me with you, the more they'll get the idea that prejudice against anyone, including a former death eater, is not acceptable to me."

"Mmm, I love when you get that authoritative tone, Harry" Draco said in a low whisper. Harry's breath caught. He loved when Draco said his name. And in that voice…

"Come back to my chambers Harry. Just for awhile. You'll want to keep an eye on me to make sure there are no side effects to the potion."

"Is there a danger of that."

"Maybe…" Draco said tracing his hand down Harry's back, then gently stroking his bum. "Though not really the way I brew it," he added almost to himself.

Harry laughed. Draco couldn't have Harry thinking that anything he did was less than perfect. And he did have to admit that Malfoy was a genius at Potions.

"All right, but only for a bit. I'm knackered. And hungry."

"We'll conjure some food and then you can have a sleep in my room if you like," Draco said. He put an arm around Harry's shoulder. "My turn to take care of you. And it's long overdue."


	8. Chapter 8

Once they had eaten and were lounging comfortably on Draco's enormous bed, Harry said almost shyly. "I read your books. They were brilliant. I even have used some of your potions for my work with the ministry."

"I'm flattered," Draco said, but Harry noticed he didn't look surprised. Draco knew his talents at Potions rivalled even Snape's.

Harry set his dish on the side table and laid back in the soft bed.

"Wait, sit up, take your robe off," Draco said.

Harry had taken a shower and changed before he had come back to Draco's room. He had put on a pair of jeans and a nice maroon t-shirt. Ginny loved him in the shirt and he thought he looked good in it as well. When he took his robe off, he saw Draco not-so-surreptitiously checking him out. Draco positioned himself behind him his legs on either side of Harry, then began massaging Harry's tired shoulders. His fingers dug deep into tense muscles and Harry sighed.

"Thanks for that," Harry said sleepily.

"There's plenty more I can do," Draco whispered from behind him. Harry felt Draco pull him backwards toward himself with one hand and let the other one slide down his front, drifting towards his centre. Harry's breath caught as he froze, waiting.

"Hmm, you're tense again. Looks like you'll need another massage," Draco said mockingly.

Harry found that he couldn't speak, waiting for Draco to undress him. His cock was pushing tightly against his zip. And he could feel Draco's cock at his back also hardening.

"Draco," Harry protested. But his voice was weak and ragged.

"Yes, Harry? Did you need something?" Draco's lips were next to Harry's ear, and his hot breath on his neck.

"I can't take this," Harry said, giving in. "Fuck me," he moaned.

"I'd love to," Draco said. He let his tongue slide along Harry's neck while his hand caressed the thick ridge of Harry's pants where his hard prick was waiting.

Harry turned his head to Draco's face and leaned up to his lips. Draco pressed his lips very softly to Harry's and let his tongue flick his lips teasingly.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you completely at my mercy, Potter," Draco said, his teasing voice becoming tinged with something cold, something cruel.

Harry was momentarily confused, but Draco didn't give him time to absorb the words. He crushed his lips to Harry and forced his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry responded with an animalistic groan. Draco quickly moved over top of him, his body pinioning Harry's. Draco kissed him again, this time forcefully bringing Harry's hands over his head. Harry's eyes shot open. He wasn't sure what was happening, but he knew that cold, cruel look in Malfoy's face. Mixed with the lust, it was incredibly intoxicating. Pinning Harry's hands together, Draco reached for his wand with his free hand. Harry's eyes widened and he began to struggle, but Draco had gotten the advantage of surprise. He pointed at Harry's hands and said "_Incarcerous!_" before Harry could react. Thick ropes sprung out and bound Harry's hands together at the wrists. Draco repeated the spell, pointing the wand at the headboard. More ropes, now Harry was tied to the headboard.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Harry demanded.

"You wanted me to fuck you," Draco said patiently.

"Not like this!"

"Well, you didn't exactly specify how." He leaned in close and whispered to him "and this is how I want you. Tied, bound, and completely at my whim. The way I've wanted you for years." The cruel smile was back.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"First of all, I want you not to call out for help. I don't wish to put a silencing charm on you, but I will. Do you agree?"

Harry nodded. Whatever Draco had planned, despite their past and his wariness, his cock was growing harder. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to please Draco.

He sneered at Harry and Harry winced at the face. Draco then pulled off Harry's pants, his thick cock springing free. Draco then took the tip of his wand and ran it along the length of Harry's shaft.

Draco met Harry's worried eyes. "You are mine right now, you realise that, don't you?" Draco asked softly with that same sneer. "I could do anything to you."

Harry nodded.

"I'm sorry what was that?"

"Yes," Harry said through clenched teeth. He was angry, aroused, and scared. He was drowning in the mix of confusing sensations.

"Tell me that you're mine," he said in that cold, silky voice.

"Draco, please!" he said softly.

"Say it! Tell me I own you and you are nothing!"" Draco demanded, pointing his want at his balls. "Or I will be forced to make some adjustments down here."

"You own me. I'm nothing," Harry managed. "Please don't!" he added desperately.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words," he said. Draco peered at his cock, examining it as though it were a curious specimen in his lab. Harry grew harder and squirmed against his restraints to try and get Draco to touch him.

Draco laughed and leaned in to Harry to whisper. "Beg me to."

"No way, Malfoy," Harry spat. He may be going mad with desire, but he would never beg this man for anything.

"Always so stubborn," Draco said with a smile. He put his wand down. He then leaned in close and blew lightly on his stiff prick. He then let his fingers play gently with Harry's pubic hair making incredibly sure not to touch either his member or his balls.

"Draco!" Harry moaned.

"All you need to do is ask, and my warm hand will take your gorgeous cock and stroke it. You want that, don't you?" he asked softly, still with the undercurrent of malice.

"I do. Merlin's beard, I do," Harry cried.

Draco looked at him expectantly.

"Touch me," Harry whispered.

"Again, and meet my eyes," Draco said chidingly.

"Touch me," Harry said in a clear voice, meeting Draco's eyes squarely. "Please, Draco."

"See? That wasn't so awful," Draco said pleased. He closed his hand firmly around Harry's shaft eliciting a sharp breath from his captive. He fingered the tip of him, then let his hands drift down to Harry's balls, rolling them in his fingers. Harry was squirming and breathing erratically.

"All right, you've had your reward. It's my turn." Draco unzipped his pants and pulled his shirt off. "Now you're going to blow me while you are bound. And no Legilimency, no Occlumency, no spells of any kind. You are mine. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded.

"And if you don't do it to my liking… well, let's just say that I have other less savoury ways you can pleasure me."

Harry's brain was spinning. Why was his body reacting like this? Draco's infuriating words and horrible cold, evil tone were making waves of desire shoot through his body.

Before he could think about his reactions any more, Draco straddled his face and roughly forced himself into Harry's mouth. Harry choked a little and he felt Draco get harder at Harry's discomfort. Harry then hollowed out his mouth and began to suck. Draco moved in and out forcefully.

"Mmm, I loved fucking your face like this," Draco moaned. He smiled at the look of anger that flashed across Harry's face. "Keep sucking," Draco instructed. "You'll stuck me dry. And if you're very good, I'll let you look at my gorgeous body while you have a wank."

Harry was appalled at himself for growing even more aroused at Draco's overbearing tone. But he sucked harder, realizing that the quicker Draco came, the quicker he himself could get relief.

Ruthlessly, Draco shoved his cock in and out of Harry's mouth. "That's it, you filthy half-blood. Suck it deep. I own you, Harry Potter, you pathetic fool."

With every insult, Harry grew harder and he actually moaned at the last one which was said in a more vicious tone than Harry had ever heard in Draco's voice. Later, he would realized that the viciousness was amplified by Draco's overpowering arousal. Now, however, he hated both his body's reactions as well as the man on top of him, forcing him to swallow his come.

When Draco was spent, he gracefully moved off Harry. With a wave of his wand, he cleaned himself. With another, he released Harry from his bonds.

The minute Harry was free, he grabbed his wand. "_Expelliarmus!_" he shouted. In an instant, he had grabbed Draco's wand and tossed it aside. He then held Draco by the throat, pointing his own wand at Draco's head.

"I guess this means you won't be staying for that wank?" Draco asked evenly. He didn't look remotely intimidated.

"If you ever point a wand at me again without my permission, I will finish you." Harry's voice was shaking with rage and arousal. He was a fool to have thought Draco could ever change.

"You'd never kill me, Harry" Draco said unperturbedly. To Harry's extreme annoyance, Draco's calm expression remained unchanged. He let go of his throat.

"I could do worse than kill you," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"May I retrieve my wand?" Draco asked, ignoring the comment.

It was dawning on Harry that he, once again, had his wand pointed on an unarmed man, and that was against every principle he had ever been taught. But somehow, Malfoy always managed to get under his skin. He knew which buttons to press both good and bad. And Harry never failed to take the bait. Harry sighed in exasperation, his temper waning. Reluctantly, he nodded but kept his own wand drawn as Draco smoothly crossed the room and picked up his wand.

"Right," Draco said, all business. "Off you go, then. I've had my bit of fun, and if you aren't going to even be grateful…"

"Grateful? For you, forcing me to suck you off?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Oh come off it. I sucked you off a week ago. And admit it, you didn't exactly hate every minute," Draco grinned. Both men were still naked. Draco calmly set his wand down and reached out for Harry's stiff cock. Harry flinched. "Don't be a prat," Draco said almost fondly. The tone confused Harry. "And lower that thing, would you? It's distracting," Draco said indicating the wand.

Harry complied, and he let Draco take his cock and he began massaging and fingering it expertly. Harry closed his eyes. Expertly, Draco brought him to orgasm in a matter of moments. Harry shuddered and sighed.

"There, then. Are we sorted?" Draco asked after a moment

"What?" Harry managed after he had caught his breath. "After what you did… what you said to me? Are you completely mental?" His eyes were shooting daggers at Draco.

Draco laughed, again with that affection in his voice. "Don't worry Harry, I won't tell anyone you like it rough and cruel." He laughed that infuriatingly self-important laugh again and now, Harry couldn't resist.

He punched Draco in the jaw.

"Don't ever touch me again," he seethed. "And the next time I see you raise your wand at me, you'll see what I can do without even needing one."

"Shameless braggart, aren't you, love?" Draco said with a smile, rubbing his jaw. He put a hand to Harry's face and traced the scar tenderly, sensuously. Then, he leaned in and kissed Harry softly on the mouth. Harry's anger melted as he kissed back, hating himself for it. But Draco's lips felt so good, his mouth so commanding. Harry felt his resolve, his will, slipping away. How did Draco do this to him?

"Till next time?" Draco grinned. Harry didn't bother to dispute him. Quickly, he got dressed and left.


	9. Chapter 9

That Sunday afternoon, Hermione, Harry, and Draco got together Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom to work on the curriculum for the joint venture. Hermione, naturally, had some great ideas, and Draco did as well, but Harry was silent, remembering the vicious way Draco had used his body the night before and the bitter irony that the more cruel Draco was to him, the more Harry succumbed. He found himself craving to be bound and this time gagged as Draco shagged him, tortured him, beat him - anything as long as he were there with Harry saying those horrible things.

What was wrong with him?

"Harry?" Hermione's voice broke him out of this train of thought

"Huh?" he blinked. Draco was giving him an angelic smile that made Harry want to choke the hell out of him. "Sorry," he said to Hermione. "Didn't sleep well last night."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Harry," Draco said with a lazy smile.

"I think we've made a lot of progress and have some great ideas," Hermione said, clearly missing the meaningful look between the two young men, one incensed, the other amused. "Let's call it a night," she continued. "Meet tomorrow after lunch?"

"Certainly. Care to join me for dinner?" Draco asked them.

"I can't," Hermione said apologetically. "I have to work on tomorrow's lesson plans. You two have a nice time, though," she said with a pointed grin.

"Good-night, Hermione. And thank you," Draco said warmly.

"Cheers, Herm," Harry echoed.

When she was out of earshot, Draco took Harry's hand. Harry, quickly moved away.

"Oh, but Harry, I was so hoping you'd come out," Draco said mockingly.

"Come out? For you? Not bloody likely."

"I see. So that's it then? No more furtive glances or late night trysts?" his voice was still mocking and far too knowing for Harry's liking.

"What if I _did_ say no to any more of that?" he challenged.

To his annoyance, Draco laughed. "I do like to see your hackles raised," Draco said, putting a hand fondly to Harry's face. Harry shook it away, irritated, but not really angry. Draco was just being an ass.

"Yeah, I noticed," Harry groused. "It's not particularly endearing."

Draco grabbed his wrist quickly, almost painfully. He moved close to Harry. Harry froze as he felt Draco's hot breath on his ear. "Who said I was trying to be endearing, you self-centred, pompous prick?" Draco said in a low, cold tone. Harry couldn't help closing his eyes and, again, hated himself for his reaction. Draco pulled back slightly, smiling nastily. He let go of Harry's wrist and took his hand. The Slytherin then put Harry's hand on Harry's own pants, already tight from his hardness. "Feel that?" Draco asked him. "That's what happens to you when I'm not being endearing."

Harry snatched his hand away from himself and colour rose in his face.

Draco smiled, this time with pleasure and affection. "You are so delightfully innocent. Even after everything you've been through. It almost makes me feel sorry for you. Almost."

"I want you," Harry blurted out.

"You don't say," Draco's self-satisfied smile was infuriating.

"Forget it!" Harry exploded angrily. "I'm sick of your games, Malfoy."

"Oh, but you really aren't, love. We both know that," Draco said in his same tone.

Realising that Draco was deliberately trying to wind him up, Harry used his Auror training to bring himself under control. Draco said nothing, watching with interest.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor Malfoy," Harry said formally, all emotion gone.

"Of course, Professor Potter. Until tomorrow, then?" Draco was clearly impressed.

Harry nodded briefly. He left Draco looking after him. Had he turned around, Harry would have seen a look of intrigue, admiration, and above all, an overwhelming lust from which Harry would not have been able to leave.

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. He'd had a wank almost the moment he was alone in his own chambers. But he still couldn't get Draco out of his mind. He was in over his head, that much he knew. Harry had so few sexual experiences and he was fully aware that that put him at a major disadvantage. He wanted Draco, he wouldn't deny that, but was he really willing to put up with Malfoy taking the piss out of him every time they were together?

After another hour of tossing and turning, Harry threw off his covers and got dressed.

 

The Hog's Head was nearly empty. Harry went straight to the bar and ordered a shot of firewhiskey. When it arrived, he threw it back immediately. "Another," he said, setting the crystal shot glass down. The bartender gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure, mate? You finished that one pretty quickly. Are you all right?" he asked softly. He leaned in, his dark blue eyes searching Harry's green ones. He was a good-looking chap, Harry noted. And his accent sounded much more posh than a bloke serving sauce in Hogsmeade's should. He could have been in the muggle House of Lords. Harry had always had a soft spot for a well-to-do accent.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Harry said quietly, not breaking eye-contact.

"All right, Gov, you got it." Suddenly, the moment was gone, and so was the bartender's high accent, replaced by one much more common. As an Auror, he was trained to pick up on these kinds of things, but it was scarcely a challenging use of his training.

"Your accent slipped," Harry noted with a grin. "Not to worry," he added when he saw the man's wary look. "I'm certainly not one to pry," he assured him.

"You got a name?" the bartender asked him, returning to his original (and, Harry was willing to bet, real) accent.

"You know my name," Harry said tiredly. It wasn't arrogance that made him say the words. After the war, Harry had begun his Auror training almost immediately to get away from his own notoriety. As the "Boy who Killed Voldemort," there had been statues erected, parades, parties, there was even a bank holiday created on the day Voldemort had died. Harry knew that part of the celebration had been about the war being over, but he had been elevated to an almost god-like status and he couldn't stand it. So he had left for his training. But no matter how far he travelled, there was always someone in the wizarding world who had recognised him. More than once he had had to obliviate the memory of his face from someone's mind who might tip off the dark witches and wizards who was the target of his investigation.

"I suppose I do know your name," the bartender replied with a sheepish smile. "I'm Nigel. Huge fan, but I promise not to be a complete tosser about it."

"Thanks for that," Harry replied with a grin. The alcohol was getting to him. Harry never could hold his drink.

Nigel placed the next shot on the table. "On the house," he said in a low, sultry voice." He put a hand on Harry's which was resting on the bar.

Their eyes met again, and Harry felt himself reacting to the handsome man's intense look. Harry turned his hand over and laced his fingers lightly through Nigel's.

"Then join me for this one," Harry replied in a husky tone of his own.

"Gladly." But Nigel made no move to remove his hand, and Harry watched as he slowly traced his thumb over the top of Harry's knuckles. It was distracting, a feeling Harry desperately wanted at that moment. And he closed his eyes, relishing the desire that was building in him. For the first time since he arrived at Hogwarts, he managed to push Draco out of his mind as he focused on this beautiful, dark-haired, blue-eyed man in front of him.

"I'd kiss you, but I'm a bit intimidated," Nigel said playfully. Harry smiled. Now, this was endearing. The man was an admirer, but didn't see Harry as out of bounds, just a bloke who came into his bar that happened to have some history.

"When are you off?" Harry asked.

"I run the place, so I suppose now?" he replied questioningly. He had a teasing smile, as if trying to make sure Harry was propositioning what he thought.

"Brilliant. But let's make one thing clear," Harry said, his tone becoming guarded. "This never happened. Any of it." His voice was firm, bordering on threatening. He didn't want to _obliviate_ Nigel, but he also didn't need Ginny reading about his sexual indiscretions in the Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter would have a field day.

"Do you honestly think I'd want to get you of all people on my bad side?" Nigel asked, wide-eyed. Harry considered that for a moment. "You defeated Vol… Voldemort," he continued, stumbling over the word. "I'd be completely mental to try and cross you. Besides…" he leaned in closer. "I fancy you, always have. You're quite the looker," he added with a rakish grin.

Harry smiled back, mollified. "How about those drinks then?"

Nigel poured them each a shot of firewhiskey from a different bottle. Harry knew that this brand cost at least 20 galleons more than the first. It wasn't a brand you down in one gulp.

"Cheers," Nigel said. They clinked their glasses, then sipped at the smooth, warm liquid.

They were silent for a moment, sipping the drinks. When they had finished, Nigel put a hand to his face. "May I?" he asked softly. Harry nodded. Gently, the other man brushed his bangs aside and lightly stroked the scar. The intimacy of the touch sent jolts of yearning through him. Unable to resist, Harry grabbed him and kissed him then, viciously, passionately. Nigel responded, pressing Harry's face closer to him. When they drew apart, Nigel (who was panting) reached into his pocket and handed him a set of keys.

"Upstairs in ten," he managed. "Let me get rid of this lot." He gestured to the few remaining customers.  
"That's ten minutes and counting," Harry said with a sultry grin. He was beginning to enjoy being the pursuer.

The room over the bar was cosy and inviting. The bed looked warm and soft. The night had a bit of a chill, and Harry pointed his wand at the fireplace "_Incendio_," he said. The logs caught fire instantly. Harry had been in this room before, when Aberforth was running the bar. That had been years ago, before the war, before Aberforth retired and moved to America.

Harry removed his cloak and hung it on a hook. Then, he removed his clothing and slid under the covers of the bed. Shortly, he heard Nigel come through the door. The only light of the room was the fire, and Nigel's dark blue eyes looked almost black in the low light.

"You don't waste time," Nigel said mildly, removing his own clothing.

"Not when I see something I want," Harry said, emboldened by the alcohol. He pulled the covers back so that Nigel could take him his form. Nigel froze in the process of removing his trousers as he took him Harry's lean, muscular body, his thick, hard cock, and the longing in his green eyes.

"Merlin, but you're gorgeous," Nigel breathed.

"Come to me," Harry said, his eyes locking on Nigel's. Nigel quickly removed his own clothing and joined Harry in the bed.

Almost immediately, they began kissing, grinding their hard cocks against each other. Nigel broke the kiss for a moment and turned away. When he turned back, Harry saw that Nigel's fingers were slick and glistened in the firelight. He gave Harry a sexy grin as he trailed his fingers down Harry's back, finding the cleft. Harry tensed involuntarily. He felt Nigel's finger's probing his cleft, slowly moving closer and closer to his opening. Harry then turned over on his stomach. Nigel moved his body lower and pressed his tongue against the small of Harry's back Harry let out a low tone, his prick growing harder beneath him. Nigel's tongue followed the trail that his fingers had started. Harry felt Nigel's thumbs slide into his cleft as Nigel pushed apart his cheeks. Harry spread his legs wider, breathing raggedly. He writhed against the bed, his cock burning to get relief. Next, he felt Nigel's tongue flicking around his opening.

"Fuck," Harry moaned into the pillow. Nigel slid his hands further down and spread Harry wider. Harry moved his legs further apart, now naked and spread-eagle on the bed. Harry was squirming uncontrollably as he felt Nigel's face press tight against him, his nose and mouth buried in his arse. Nigel slid a tongue inside him then and Harry let out an almost savage cry of desire. In and out Nigel pressed his tongue, tasting him, teasing him. Harry felt Nigel's hand reach around to grasp his hard, nearly painfully swollen cock he pumped it as best as he could in that position. With his other hand, he slid in a finger to the hilt, moving it deliberately in and out, hitting the nerves by his prostate.

Harry's brain was swimming, he was sure he would suffocate. But he still wasn't coming. Nigel slipped in another finger which joined in the pumping, swirling dance. Harry was thrashing wildly now.

"Fuck me!" Harry begged him.

"Oh, I don't think so, pet," Nigel said from behind him, a great deal of affection in his voice. He continued pumping in and out of Harry hitting his sweet spot over and over.

In the haze of passion, Harry realized that Nigel must have cast some sort of spell that withheld Harry's climax.

"Release it," he begged. "Let me come!"

"Figured that out, did you?" Nigel said, impressed. "I'll need my wand to cancel the spell. I'll let you decide which hand I use to grab it."

Nigel slid yet another finger inside Harry, stretching him with painful pleasure.

"The… the one on my cock," he managed.

Nigel complied. He reached over, grabbed his wand, and muttered quickly.

Instantly, Harry bellowed as he climaxed, his hips bucking against the fingers inside of him. He sank onto the bed, spent.

Through his exhaustion, Harry could hear Nigel casting a few spells. He heard water running, and soon he felt a warm, wet cloth on his backside. The cloth was moving of its own accord and seemed to nudge Harry to roll over. Harry obliged and the cloth wiped him down in front. He looked beside him and saw his seed all over Nigel's bed.

"Scourgify," Nigel said, pointing at his bed and the soiled spot was gone.

Nigel joined a completely knackered Harry in the bed.

"How are you doing," he asked Harry.

Harry laughed shakily. "Brilliant. That was incredible."

"Thank you," Nigel said modestly.

"Now, shall we take care of you?" Harry asked, noting Nigel's still-turgid member.

"What did you have in mind?" Nigel asked teasingly.

Harry rolled on his back. "Get on top of me. Fuck my mouth," he said in a low tone.

"Mmm, gladly." Nigel knelt over Harry, his knees straddling his face. He sat up and lowered himself into Harry's mouth. Harry took him in and sucked as Drac… Nigel pumped in and out of him. Harry tried to push the blonde man out of his head, but it was no use. It was Draco on top of him. Thankfully, Nigel came quickly.

Harry's brain was spinning. Why had Draco's face made an appearance? They were having a lovely time without him.  
"Look, I have to go," Harry said, feeling like a complete prat.

"No worries, I'll see you around," Nigel said easily. He gave Harry a warm smiled which Harry tried to return. Quickly he dressed and headed back to the castle.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry, Draco and Hermione were scheduled to meet after lunch the following day. To Harry's surprise and relief, he was able to relax and be much more involved in the discussion. Maybe there really was something to the notion of a good shag putting you in good spirits. Hermione looked pleased at his demeanour, and Draco had put up his smooth mask of charming professionalism about the task at hand. He was as involved as he had been the previous day, but he was somewhat more reserved. If Hermione had noticed the chilliness, she didn't say anything. The three agreed to meet the following week.

Later that week at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione was having yet another "why won't you work with Draco?" conversation with Neville. Harry was only half listening. He couldn't help but check the time, wondering if he could sneak over to the Hog's Head to see if Nigel was working.

"I'm glad he and Harry are getting on," Neville was saying, "but I still can't forgive him for what he did. I'm willing to accept him as a colleague, but I don't have to pal around with him like you two." Neville was firm.

"Hermione, let it go," Harry said touching her hand. "And Nev, I don't completely trust him either. But he is an excellent teacher. And I believe he's completely reformed, even if he is a bit of a tosser personally."

Neville smiled, reassured by Harry's support. Hermione had to smile too. Harry was at least making the effort for all parties, and she knew it.

"Anyways," Hermione said brightly. "It will be good to see Dean again. It's been ages."

Harry nearly choked on his firewhiskey. "Dean?" he sputtered.

"Yes, Dean, Harry!" Hermione said, exasperated. "I just said he'd be here next week."

"Why?"

"Probably to have it off with Malfoy, if I know Thomas," Neville snorted with uncharacteristic derision.

"Dean and Draco?" Hermione said, shocked. She looked at Harry who tried to also look surprised. But Hermione knew him too well. Her eyes narrowed.

"You knew?" she asked.

"Knew what?" Harry replied.

"Malfoy and Dean were an item at Durmstrang," Neville said, ignoring the tension. "Hermione, everyone knew!"

Hermione's face went blank for a moment, then she smiled that slow, knowing smile that never failed to make him half annoyed, and half curious. Whatever was going on in her head, he knew he'd have to wait until they were alone to find out.

"So why is he coming to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"He's writing a book chronicling the war," Neville said. "I imagine he'll want to talk to everyone involved. Especially you," he indicated Harry.

Harry said nothing.

On their way out, Harry mentioned that he wanted to pop by the Hog's Head. Hermione made a face. She had never liked the atmosphere of the shady bar, and Harry could hardly blame her. So he said good-bye to the two of them and headed down the street.

The candles were low and the lighting was dim as always. Harry liked it for the same reason that many dark wizards liked it: you couldn't make out faces very easily. Realising this, Harry felt guilty about neglecting his Auror training. He scanned the crowd using a little Legilimency, but only enough to pick up sensations and intent, not read actual thought. As he expected, the patrons were mainly interested in illegal drugs, illicit sex, or both. Nothing to concern Harry.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't arrest my clients until after they leave my pub," he heard a mild voice say. Harry turned his attention to the barkeeper. Nigel had an eyebrow raised, but with his Legilimency concentration still active, Harry picked up on an undertone of malice. Nigel must have known that Harry had worked for the Ministry.

"Easy there," Harry said quietly. "I don't care what your patrons do as long as they keep it to themselves. I just did a quick scan for Dark Magic. Once an Auror..." he trailed off apologetically.

Nigel relaxed. Harry was certain that Nigel had not known he was using Legilimency. Very few wizards could, and there were others who felt that, like divination, Legilimency (and Occlumency) didn't really work. There was a popular opinion that what was called Legilimency was simply the ability to pick up on body language and facial cues. Those who knew better were not quick to correct this misconception.

"What can I get you, Harry?" Nigel asked quiet voice. He was using his real accent which Harry loved. He felt his eyes close slightly with desire.

"Surprise me," he said huskily, looking into Nigel's beautiful face. Nigel gave him a smouldering look of his own. He looked around quickly, but seeing no one was paying attention to them, he rested a hand on the back of Harry's, then traced his fingers lightly over his knuckles, then the tips, then he walked away to get Harry's drink.

Harry let out a breath, desire shooting through him as he fancied he could still feel Nigel's hand on his. After a moment, Nigel returned. He set a glass in front of him with clear, bubbly liquid. There was a lime on the rim. Harry gave him a questioning look.

"Bubble-gin," Nigel said.

Harry took a sip. It tasted like... he smiled. "This is a gin and tonic, Nigel," he said, wondering if the barkeep was familiar with the muggle beverage. Nigel's smile confirmed that he was indeed.

"It's technically a gin and serotonic. Same flavour, but serotonic has a potion in it that lowers your inhibitions. Popular drink at dance clubs."

"And you think I need my inhibitions lowered? After that night?" Harry took Nigel's hand and brought it to his lips.

"Perhaps that wasn't such a good idea," Nigel laughed. He glanced around quickly and put a hand on the glass as if to take it away.

"No, no, I'll behave for your sake," Harry promised.

"It's not just for my sake, mate," Nigel pointed out. Harry knew he was right.

"So I'll sit here quietly and have my drink, and just think of all of the naughty things I want you to do to me." His voice lowered on the last part and he was pleased to see that Nigel's eyes widened with surprise, then lowered with arousal. He seemed unable to speak and Harry took another sip of the drink.

"You do that," Nigel managed. Then he walked away and Harry continued with his drink, relishing the sensations washing over him.

A few moments later, Draco walked in the bar. Noticing Harry, he nodded curtly. Harry, halfway into his drink, gave Draco a sexy smile and beckoned him over with a finger. Draco, curious and clearly intrigued, complied.

"Alright, Draco?"

"Alright, Harry. Ah," he said, noticing the drink. "Interesting choice."

"Why is it I'm always the last to know everything in the Wizarding World?" Harry said with almost childish irritation. "Honestly. Even something as simple as a drink. Am I ever going to catch up? I mean really!"

Draco, taken aback by the tone said nothing for a moment.

"Nigel? When you have a moment, I'll have a bubble-gin as well," he called over to the bartender. Nigel, who was busy with another customer nodded to indicate he had heard Draco.

"Great," muttered Harry. The last thing he wanted was his previous paramour getting pissed whilst Harry was trying to have it off with Nigel again.

"To answer your question, Harry, I did grow up in this world. Anything muggle was not only unfamiliar, but out of bounds for me. My parents would never have allowed it." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry was surprised by the friendly gesture that contained nothing other than compassion.

"Even Hermione knows more than me and she was raised as a muggle as well," Harry couldn't help grumbling.

Draco chuckled. "Harry, Hermione knows more than anyone, muggle or wizard. She spends all her time reading up on these things."

"There is that," Harry agreed.

"Now snap out of this self-pity," Draco said firmly. "I'll not have a drink with you if you're just going to wallow."

Harry almost retorted that he didn't want Draco to have a drink with him, not with Nigel there. But, he figured, Nigel was working and Harry would need to pass the time until he was finished.

"One bubble-gin for the gentleman," Nigel said in his fake, lowbrow accent.

"Thanks, Ni," Draco flashed him a charming grin. Harry was instantly jealous, though he wasn't sure which one was the object of his jealousy. He need not have worried. Nigel gave Draco a polite smile and walked away.

"Merlin, but he is gorgeous," Draco said almost to himself. "One of these days I'll roger the hell out of him."

"Really?" Harry said, forcing himself to sound neutral. "Is he queer?"

"I can't tell," Draco said honestly. "Sometimes I think he might be, but he's friendly with everyone equally like a typical barkeep who wants good tips. Never seems interested in anything beyond that. Still. He is striking."

Draco took a sip of his drink, and Harry was pleased that he had been special enough to merit Nigel's attention. Then again, Harry was a celebrity and Nigel was a fan. For the first time, Harry was glad of his own fame.

Harry watched Draco again take a pull on his drink. He wondered what Draco's lowered inhibitions would reveal. Then again, he though shrewdly, Draco probably knew how to handle this drink as Harry did not.

"Speaking of striking, I heard Dean's coming to town. Be nice to see him again. It's been years. Though not so long for you, eh?" Harry cast a side-long glance at Draco who smiled tightly.

"Jealous?" Draco asked.

Maybe it was the drink, but Harry detected more than Draco's patented mild amusement. He sensed that Draco was actually hoping that Harry was jealous. Harry, after feeling like a prat for not even knowing a proper wizard drink, was delighted that he actually had control over something. He thought for a second on how to play this. After a moment, he just gave Draco a neutral smile as though Draco had tried to say something funny and Harry was smiling to be polite.

"Anyways," Draco continued, trying to regain control of the conversation, "I reckon he'll want to speak with you more than anyone else."

"I don't know why," Harry said honestly but with a trace of irritation. "Dean was trapped in your parents' basement with me, he got out same way I did, then he fought beside me. There's nothing I can tell him that he doesn't already know, or that I didn't report later."

Harry had given a full account of what had happened (leaving out the appearance of the ghosts that the resurrection stone had reincarnated) when he had duelled Voldemort. It had been run in the Quibbler, and Luna's father had made more money on that one edition than he had on the previous ten years combined.

"You really hate the attention, don't you?" Draco marvelled.

Harry's withering look was his response.

"Look, Harry," Draco said in a more matter-of-fact tone, "you defeated Voldemort. It's going to follow you around forever. The impact will fade, but it's going to take time."

"You have no idea how hard it is," Harry said bitterly.

"Stop," Draco said firmly. But there was kindness in his eyes. "Enough of this self-pity for the night. Do you understand? Here," he put a galleon on the bar (hugely over-tipping, Harry was quick to note). "Let's get out of here and go back to my room."

"Draco," Harry began, almost about to blurt out that he was waiting for Nigel's shift to be over. He bit his lip just in time and Draco mistook his hesitation.

"Just talk with me," he said quickly. "I want to spend time with you, get to know you. No ulterior motives, I promise. I won't try anything."

"Not tonight, love," Harry said softly after a moment. Truthfully, he had almost given in, but that would have been incredibly rude to Nigel. Harry wished Draco hadn't chosen that night to share a bubble-gin with him.

Draco was hurt, and Harry, despite everything, couldn't help but smirk inwardly. Draco always got what he wanted, especially lately where Harry was concerned. It was nice to take him down a peg. He felt a twinge of guilt as he realised that Draco had put himself out there only to be rejected.

"Another time," Harry reassured him, hoping his warm look was enough to soothe Draco's bruised ego. But a look of annoyance came over Draco's face and Harry understood that Draco felt patronised. Well, there was nothing to do about that. He had made it clear to Nigel that he was his tonight. With one last glare, Draco downed his drink and stormed out.

Harry sighed as he watched him go.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that looked like a lover's spat," he heard the barkeeper saying, again in his natural accent. Harry quickly looked around, but the bar had emptied. Harry noticed that one of the men at the bar was now sitting at a table away from them.

"Was it something I said?" Harry asked indicating the man.

"No, people just don't tend to prefer the bar area here. Most of my punters are here to have a drink and keep a low profile."

"Ah. So no one really stays up at the bar? I can't imagine wanting to be that far from you." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. Suddenly he felt like an infatuated second-year co-ed.

But Nigel just smiled. "I see you're enjoying your drink," he teased.

"I guess so," Harry said studying it warily.

"And to answer your question, it's not unheard of to have people up front at the bar, so you're not overly conspicuous if that's your concern."

It actually had been Harry's concern, to some extent. At least one of them.

"You never answered my question about the lover's spat," Nigel said easily.

Harry looked at him sharply, but not without amusement. "Nor did I confirm it was a lover's spat," he returned. He made his face as blank as he could feeling almost guilty that he was using Auror training for this. Nigel studied him for a moment, then laughed.

"Well played, Harry. You're a tough one to read when you want to be. Especially considering how strong I made that drink."

Harry grinned, pleased, then asked, "What's your concern with Draco, anyway? Are you interested in him?"

"That depends. Was he the one in my bed the other night?" Nigel asked in a casual voice. His pointed look belied the attitude completely.

Shocked, Harry said nothing. He was sure that Nigel wasn't insinuating…. No, he couldn't have known that the thought of Draco had spooked Harry… Could he?

But two could play this game.

"I was the one in your bed," Harry said, feigning hurt. "Have you forgotten already?" He was finding it difficult to do this verbal parrying with the effects of the drink. Difficult, but not impossible. And he was certainly enjoying the challenge.

He saw admiration in Nigel's beautiful blue eyes. Nigel clearly knew he was being played, and he loved it.

"Harry," he murmured, changing tactics. "I haven't stopped thinking about it since it happened." He leaned in close and whispered. "In fact, I'd love to shag you senseless right here." Nigel trailed a finger lightly down Harry's arm.  
Harry felt his stomach flip and a stiffening feeling down lower than that.

"The feeling is mutual," he said softly. Harry covered Nigel's hand with his brought his fingers to his mouth as he had done earlier in the evening. He parted his lips and lightly traced Nigel's fingers with his tongue. He saw the barkeep struggle to maintain himself, and Harry deftly slid Nigel's index finger down his throat and began sucking. Deeply.

"Harry…" Nigel said hoarsely. His eyes were closed.

"Keys?" Harry asked nonchalantly.

"They're… oh hell!" Nigel could barely speak. "Just blast the bloody door open."

Harry extricated himself, lingering slightly before releasing Nigel, pleased to have regained the upper hand.


	11. Chapter 11

In about ten minutes, Nigel had joined Harry in the upstairs room holding two glasses and a bottle of wine.  
"Bar still open?" he asked.

"Yes, I may have to go back. My cousin apparated to take over for a bit. But not to worry, we have plenty of time. She likes the tips. I even told her to close up if it gets late and I don't return."

Harry smiled as he watched Nigel pour the wine. He found himself touched that Nigel was actually romancing him a bit rather than getting his end away with Harry and heading back to work.

Nigel handed Harry a glass and took a seat next to him on the couch. He put a hand on Harry's leg and began stroking it absently.

"So," Nigel began, "I'm still dying to know what's going on between you and Mister Malfoy."

"Not a thing," Harry lied easily. Fortunately, the effects of the bubble-gin seemed to be wearing off.

"Well, you have to admit he was giving you some fairly intense looks," Nigel said, obviously not convinced.

Harry shrugged. "He was giving you those looks too. He was just being Draco, out on the pull. Nothing else to it. Though," he added with a grin, "He fancies you, doesn't he?"

"You don't say," Nigel said wryly. "That man tries to chat me up every time he comes in."

"And he's not your type?"

"Few are my type. Of those who are, even fewer still are interested back." It was said dispassionately.

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Hardly," Nigel scoffed. "I'm the one who should be flattered. I can't be the first divvy whose wanted a boff from _The_ Harry Potter."

Harry grinned. "Where exactly are you from?" he asked. "Because I'm guessing it isn't the East End."

"Knightsbridge."

"Naturally."

"It's not like that. It's just my family. They're…" he sighed and took a sip of his drink.

"Look, forget it," Harry said putting a hand to Nigel's face. "It doesn't matter." Harry of all people understood the complexity of family.

Nigel met his eyes gratefully and Harry kissed him, gently at first, but then deeper as the men struggled to put their glasses down. Nigel pulled Harry close and deepened the kiss and pressed his tongue against Harry's, probing, exploring the depths of his mouth as Harry moaned.

"Harry, I want to fuck you," Nigel said between breaths. "Merlin, I've wanted to fuck you for longer than you know."   
His blue eyes were now dark with deep longing and Harry was sinking into a pool of maddening arousal so deep that he found he was gasping for breath.

"Yes," was all he could say in a strained voice. Quickly, he removed his robes and clothing. Nigel did the same.   
The minute they were both naked, Harry suddenly felt very shy and exposed. He felt some of the fire leave him.

"Get your wine glass," Nigel said unexpectedly.

Harry just looked at him, perplexed, but after a moment, complied.

"Now get into bed with me. I want to hold you," Nigel said in a more tender voice.

He muttered a spell that dimmed the lights in the room, and Harry instantly felt more comfortable.

Nigel, his beautiful nude body silhouetted by the firelight, deftly grabbed the bottle of wine, and sat next to Harry. He refilled both of their glasses. He then slid his arm behind Harry who promptly did the same, moving lower under the blankets to rest the side of his head on Nigel's chest. Nigel was warm and Harry could see that he was already hard. Harry grew hard as well and he took a sip of his wine with his free hand, savouring the warm feelings going through his body at being in Nigel's arms.

"Your cousin will be closing the pub tonight won't she?" Harry said.

"It would appear so," Nigel agreed. "But that's fine. Tonight should be about you. About us."

Harry tensed involuntarily.

Nigel chuckled and kissed the top of Harry's head. "Don't worry, I'm not proposing just yet."

Harry smiled in spite of himself. He took one last sip of his wine and handed the glass to Nigel who placed both glasses on the side table. Harry placed his hand on Nigel's smooth chest, then leaned over and kissed his stomach. He let his tongue slide over Nigel's well-defined abs. He heard Nigel moan softly. Slowly, Harry trailed his tongue lower until he was at the base of Nigel's shaft. He felt Nigel's fingers in his hair, running through it, grasping at it expectantly as Harry lazily flicked his tongue around Nigel's turgid member. Harry gently cupped his bollocks and tugged them gently generating yet another moan as he felt Nigel's hands tighten on a fistful of hair in an almost painful way.

"Do it, Harry!" he heard Nigel's sexy voice plead.

Obligingly, Harry wrapped his mouth around the tip of him and suckled gently, still tortuously slow. He felt Nigel writing beneath him.

"Lower!"

"Don't be greedy," Harry teased. He took the tip in his mouth again and resumed his task. Slowly, he moved lower, increasing the suction. He moved to position his knees on either side of Nigel's legs. During the transition, Nigel wasted no time in grabbing Harry's cock and closing a hand around it, tugging. Harry stopped momentarily to relish the sensation, then he moved out of Nigel's reach and took Nigel's throbbing cock as deep into his throat as he could, sucking almost brutally, his tongue stroking the sides of his shaft.

Nigel's howl from the orgasm was exceedingly satisfying, and Harry was happy that there was a muting charm on the room. He moved back up to Nigel and laid beside him, his head on his chest.

"That… wasn't exactly… what we discussed," Nigel panted.

"You can fuck me another time," Harry assured him with a grin.

"Then let me take care of you," Nigel said, his breath returning.

"That'd be brilliant, thanks," Harry said playfully.

But instead of touching him, Nigel reached over to his nightstand and withdrew a small vial. He emptied the contents onto his fingers. Deftly, he swiped his hand over Harry's cock, coating it. He then turned over so that his back was to Harry's front and Harry watching Nigel slide one, then two fingers inside of himself. Harry grew harder as he watched the man stretching himself and, Harry noticed, Nigel himself was not exactly lacking in the hard-on department either.

"Take me," Nigel said after a moment.

Harry paused. This would be his first time and he didn't want to hurt Nigel.

"I'll help, pet. It will be fine. I promise." Nigel then re-positioned himself on all fours, lowering his face to the pillow. "Slide your cock into me, Harry."

Harry moved behind him. His cock, still lubricated, was hard and practically pulsating, demanding release. He slid his hands onto Nigel's perfect arse and spread him, running a finger down him, from his cleft to his bollocks, lingering slightly on his opening. Then he gingerly slid the tip of his cock inside Nigel.

"More!" Nigel moaned, and Harry slid deeper. The tightness was threatening to overtake him, but he forced himself to concentrate through the powerful stimulation, letting Nigel adjust to him.

"More," Nigel repeated. Harry slid in perhaps a bit too excitedly and he heard a sharp intake of breath.  
"Nigel are you…" he began anxiously.

"Move in and out of me. Slowly." Nigel managed. Harry couldn't tell if the voice was aroused or in pain, but probably both. And Harry himself knew the appeal of those two sensations. He slid his cock slowly out, then back in.   
"Fuck!" Harry gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation of the friction. Without checking, he moved harder and harder until he was pounding into Nigel. Each thrust was more mind-blowing than the last and he tried to make sure he hit Nigel's sweet spot each time. From the sounds of it, he was succeeding. With a final thrust, Harry came, screaming almost as loudly as Nigel had moments ago. He fell onto the bed, exhausted.

Harry laid still on the bed, catching his breath. After a few moments, he felt the bed move, and realised that Nigel was having a wank. Before Harry could help, he heard Nigel climax.

Harry grabbed some cloths and cleaned both himself and Nigel. "I should have reached around for you while I was in you," he said apologetically.

"Not at all. That was your first, I take it?"

Harry nodded, blushing. Nigel kissed him affectionately. "Then, again, I'm flattered," he said softly. Harry grabbed him and kissed him back fiercely. For the next few moments, the two were locked in that embrace, kissing almost viciously, hands grasping each other's hair. When they finally pulled apart, both were having difficulty breathing.

"We're going to be a bit red in the morning," Nigel said, rubbing his chin. Harry too felt the burning on his face from Nigel's stubble.

"I'll have to figure out something to tell my students." Or, a spell to hide the effects of an intense snogging session from that night.


	12. Chapter 12

The evidence from the previous night's encounter was easy enough to charm away. It was a surface wound, and Harry had long since used healing charms for minor injuries. Throughout the following week, Harry found he was incredibly busy with classes, and he had even volunteered to help Hermione with some of her Head of Gryffindor House duties. It wasn't terribly taxing, but it was enough to keep him away from Nigel. He debated on whether to send Nigel an owl, but what could he say? "Sorry I've been too busy to drop by for a shag?" But a week later, he received an owl from Nigel. "Come by tonight to have drinks with me and some friends? – N" Harry quickly scribbled an affirmative reply.

That night, Harry arrived at the Hog's Head and saw the familiar blonde-haired man sitting at the bar drinking something amber-coloured. Beside him, was an older Dean Thomas.

"Harry!" Dean exclaimed when he saw him.

The two embraced and gave one another hearty thumps on the back. "Alright, Dean?"

"Brilliant! You?"

Harry nodded and grinned. It felt good to see a boyhood friend. He had completely forgotten Dean was arriving that day as his lesson planning and classes had kept him away from Hermione and Neville.

"Ni, bring us a round of butter beer for old-time's sake," Dean said.

"You've got it, guv," Nigel said. Harry almost snickered at the accent that he was so unused to hearing from Nigel.

"Draco, how have you been?" Harry asked genuinely. "I haven't had a chance to speak with you lately about our post winter-holiday lessons." Harry quickly filled Dean in on the ideas for joint teachings of DODA and Potions classes.

"Yeah, we had something like that at Durmstrang. The cross-curriculum thing."

"Is that what we're calling what we did?" Draco asked softly with a wicked grin.  
Dean flushed and Harry pretended he hadn't heard. Thankfully, Nigel appeared at that moment with the butter beers. They all took sips of their respective drinks and exchanged glances.

"Merlin, these are sweet," Draco said making a face.

"Yeah. Have they changed that much?" Harry said eyeing the liquid.

"No, mates, you have," Nigel said with a grin. "You're grown men, and that's a sprog's drink. Here." Nigel dumped a shot of firewhiskey in each of the glasses. The men took sips of the altered drink.

"Much improved," Draco said. "Though still feels like something you'd order to get some bird trolleyed enough to have it off with you."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from saying something to the effect of "birds over blokes, now, is it?" Instead he said "it's a bit more palatable, thanks Nigel." He met Nigel's eyes evenly and Nigel gave him a polite nod, both aware that Draco was watching them closely.

"Let me toss that rubbish and give you the whiskey straight," Nigel suggested. The three Hogwarts alums breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"So what's your schedule while you're here, Dean? I reckon you'll want to talk with us all at some point," Harry said after taking a drink of the whiskey.

"Eventually, yes, but first I want to get the geography down. The specific locations of the battles, the room in the back here at Hog's Head where Alberfore smuggled in the Order, Malfoy Manor," he nodded at Draco. "The family has been gracious enough to let me tour the grounds unattended."

"You mean not just lock you in the basement this time?" Harry snapped bitterly before he could stop himself. He downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down for a refill.

"Harry, it's okay," Dean said. "That's the past. It's all been worked out." He smiled at Draco who returned the smile but the shame he felt for the sins of his family were still clearly etched on his face.

Harry didn't let up. "One shag is all it takes and everything is forgiven?" He looked angrily at Draco who looked hurt and even more guilty. "Or was it several, Draco? How long did it take to clear your conscience?"

Harry was treading on dangerous ground, and he knew it. But suddenly, he didn't care if Draco outted him. He didn't care that only a few days ago, he was telling Hermione how nice it was that they had all moved on from the war.   
"This was a mistake," Draco said quietly, staring down at the bar.

But Dean looked furious. "Really, Harry. I didn't peg you as a homophobe."

"This has nothing to do with that!" Harry exploded. "This has to do with the Malfoys nearly destroying everything we held dear and you forgiving him and letting him into your bed as though nothing ever happened!"

Harry noticed Dean's hand had slipped down to his pocket where he was undoubtedly fingering his wand.

Draco noticed it too. "Harry," he said calmly and carefully. "I will take your anger- I deserve that- but not your hypocrisy." Draco's eyes bore into his until Harry was finally forced to look away.

"Come on, Draco, let's go have a drink somewhere else," Dean said angrily, clearly missing the implications between the other two men.

Draco put some coins on the bar. "Cheers," he said, nodding to Nigel, and the two walked out. Harry slumped down on the bar and rubbed his face, resting it in his hands.

"Interesting school reunion," Nigel said mildly in his real accent.

"Could I have been more of a plonker?" Harry asked, his voice muffled by his hands.

"Doesn't appear that way from here," Nigel replied ruefully.

Harry looked up and gave Nigel a sheepish smile. But his face darkened as he remembered what had brought on the fit of rage. "Dean shouldn't go to the Malfoy's home alone," he said sulkily. "Did you hear what he said? 'Tour the grounds unattended'? Malfoys're probably just too ashamed to show their faces."

"Probably," Nigel agreed. "Maybe you should go with him."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," Harry said slowly. "Well, if he even wants me around."

"Oh, I have a feeling he will," Nigel said with a knowing smile.

"It's not like that," Harry said quickly. "We've been friends forever. We bloody grew up together. But we're just mates. That's all."

"Better make sure he knows that. You didn't see how his eyes lit up when Draco and I told him you'd be here tonight."

"Jealous?" Harry couldn't resist teasing him.

"From the sounds of it, Dean isn't the one I need to be jealous of," Nigel said pointedly.

Harry reddened but tried to look confused.

"It's no use, Harry," Nigel laughed. "Your face is perfect for the look you're trying to pull off, but the red gives you away."

"Damn!"

"Anyways, I don't care what's going on between you and Draco Malfoy." He paused. "All right, that was a lie. I do care," he grinned.

"Don't you have other customers?" Harry asked irritated. He and Nigel looked around at the empty bar. Nigel met his eyes expectantly.

"Bit of a nosey parker, aren't you?"

"Comes with the job."

Harry sighed. "I better go chase them down and apologise," he said.

"Probably. If nothing else, it gets you out of this question of what exactly you did that makes Draco Malfoy call you a hypocrite."

"Good night, Nigel," Harry said shaking his head, amused at the barkeep's tenacity. He put some money on the bar. Nigel's hand quickly covered Harry's.

"Will I see you later?" Nigel asked in a low, sultry voice that shook Harry straight through to his centre.

"Mmm, that depends," Harry couldn't resist toying with him. "Are you going to drop this line of questioning?"

"Maybe," Nigel said in a teasing voice of his own.

"Then 'maybe' you'll see me," Harry replied. He smirked triumphantly and left the bar, smiling as he heard Nigel's soft chuckle.


	13. Chapter 13

The Three Broomsticks was much busier with both sixth and seventh year Hogwarts students as well as the professors and the locals. But Harry had no problem picking out Dean and Draco. They were in the back at a small table, trying to look inconspicuous.

"Harry, dear!"

"Hallo, Rosmerta," Harry greeted the barkeep. "Tell me, do you carry any muggle spirits?"

"Certainly, what would you like?"

"Give me three shots of your best British gin for Draco, Dean and me."

"I'll bring them over straight away," she said with a smile.

With trepidation, Harry headed over to their table.

"Oh, look who it is," Dean said coldly. "The homophobe."

"Blimey, but are you a daft git," Harry said with a grin. "You didn't tell him?" he asked Draco.

"Not mine to tell," Draco said simply.

"Look," Harry said quickly, realising the way to mend fences was probably not to begin the conversation by calling someone a "daft git."

"I was a right bastard," Harry said sincerely. "I don't like how the Malfoys treated any of us that night, and I'm a bit jumpy on that point. Draco, I'm sorry. I know it wasn't you, it was your parents." But even to his own ears, the last phrase sounded forced. He knew to some extent, it was Draco's fault.

Draco must have known this as well, because in a tired voice he said "No, they can't have all of the blame. I was there as well," Draco objected tiredly.

"But it wasn't your fault," Dean protested.

"Please," Draco smiled. "If nothing else, you both should have at least learned that I want to take responsibility for my actions, not just excuse them or blame someone else as I have in the past."

"Just make sure you aren't taking too much of that blame, Dray," Dean said softly, putting a hand on Draco's.  
Harry felt a surge of jealousy. At that moment, Rosmerta arrived with the gin. It was a yellowish colour. Harry could smell the botanicals in the liquid, but could also smell how strong it was.

"I wanted to buy you two a drink to apologise," he said.

"Mmm, Old Raj gin," Dean said approvingly, taking the glass.

"What's that then?" Draco asked curiously.

"Very nice brand of gin. Quite strong as well," Dean explained. His stony expression had softened slightly

"It's a muggle drink, Draco," Harry explained. "Remember when you told me that everything muggle was out of bounds for you? Well here's an example of what you've missed." He offered the glass to Draco who took it hesitantly.  
Harry pulled a chair over to the table after taking his own drink from Rosmerta.

"To new beginnings?" Harry suggested, holding his glass up.

"New beginnings," Draco agreed and Dean echoed him and they all drank.

"I take back everything I've ever said about muggles. If that lot can produce this kind of drink…" Draco trailed off, clearly enjoying the beverage.

Dean again placed an affectionate hand on Draco's. "Knew you'd come around," Dean said fondly. Their hands entwined and Harry couldn't help staring at them.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" Dean asked him mildly, stroking Draco's hand with his free hand and meeting Harry's eyes defiantly.

Harry snorted at the misconception. "Not remotely. Just didn't realize that you two were still an item."

"Dean, you can back off," Draco said, amused. Dean removed his hand. "Harry's no gay-basher." To Harry, Draco said,   
"Dean's just trying to make a point."

"And you're just hoping he's making me jealous," Harry countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Is it working?"

"Sorry, no," Harry lied. He couldn't resist adding, "But you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Draco just smiled.

"Wait, you're not..." Dean trailed off looking from one to the other.

"It wouldn't be the first time Harry had taken one of your exes to bed," Draco pointed out with a lazy smirk.

Dean stared at them in shock.

"When... how...?" he managed.

"Just something that happened at the beginning of term. Nothing serious," Draco explained a little too quickly. But Harry's face clouded as he felt an inexplicable pang of hurt at those words. Even though he knew they weren't serious, they had had a connection… hadn't they? With their past, how could they not? Was Draco just covering for how he really felt?

Draco was watching Harry carefully, and Harry used his training to quickly clear his face of any expression.

"Just a shag here and there. For fun," Harry confirmed, making his voice sound as nonchalant as Draco's has attempted to be. In the past, Harry would have been concerned as to whether or not he could pull off camouflaging his emotions, but for better or worse, his Auror training had been tested on that point years ago. The incident nearly cost him his life, but it proved to him beyond any doubt that he had mastered the ability to show the expression he wanted others to see.

And Draco was looking at him, his shoulders falling slightly. Well he had started this, Harry thought with irritation, but still managing to keep his face passive.

Dean seemed oblivious to the tension and grinned. "Look, aside from this little game show of 'Who's Gay Now?' I think it's great that you two have managed to reconcile your differences. However it's happened."

"Our reconciliation is far from complete," Harry couldn't resist saying grimly. It was so easy to slip back into old habits, and a very real and strong old habit was to hate Draco Malfoy. It was most likely that tendency that made their connection in bed so fantastic. But he couldn't let everything that had happened go; the emotional toll it had taken was far too deep. And there was a part of Harry that could never forgive that.

"Well, whatever is going on between you, Draco and I have parted amicably, Harry," Dean was saying. "So no worries from me there."

"I'm seeing someone," Harry blurted out unceremoniously. The instant the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them, but his stubbornness prevailed, as the expression on his face remained determined and more than a little challenging.

"I should say you're seeing someone," Dean pointed out. "You're practically engaged to Ginny Weasley.

"No, not her, I... I've met someone since her," he said looking at Draco. "A man."

The pain in Draco's eyes almost made Harry waver. But in an instant, Draco's mask of smooth indifference returned and it was much easier to remain angry at that familiar, uncompromising countenance.

"Right, I think I'm going to go," Dean said warily, looking between the two. "Thanks for the drink, Harry. Cheers," he added to Draco. Draco didn't even look at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that you thought we were exclusive," Harry said, calmly apologetic. He smiled inwardly as he knew his tone had carried the perfect amount of sympathy, surprise and sweet pseudo-kindness. He wasn't a child anymore. He knew that rage hurt far worse than indifference. And part of him hated himself for that knowledge.

"And who, pray tell, is the lucky bloke?" Draco asked with a familiar sneer. "Surely not some Harry Potter fan-boy who is willing to do whatever you want to please you. No, that would be beneath even you." Draco's voice was dripping with contempt.

"No, actually, not." Harry countered. Though Nigel was, in fact, a fan. Hadn't he said that the first night? "It's not like that," he amended lamely, knowing full-well he was losing this battle.

"I feel certain it isn't," Draco said derisively.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Harry said quickly. "We're not…" He took a breath. "I mean, honestly, Malfoy, this thing between us…"

"No, it was never serious, Potter," Draco agreed. Without realising it, both had resumed addressing the other by their last names as they had in their boyhood. "I just assumed that you had a bit more class."

"Class?" Harry sputtered. "I think I've about sunk as low as I could when I went to your bed," he hissed.

Harry's eyes widened as he instantly regretted his words. Draco's already pale face went completely white.

Harry took a breath, cursing his lack of control of his anger. "Draco…" he said pleadingly. But he had no idea how he wanted to finish that sentence.

"Forget it, Potter. I've heard enough," Draco replied curtly, but still with the quiet smile that was almost eerie. He then gave Harry a curt yet polite nod, left some money on the table, and walked past him into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

"How did the apology go?" Nigel asked when they were alone in his flat.

"Oh, I fully managed to cock it up," Harry said. "I'm getting quite good at that lately." He threw back the shot of firewhiskey that Nigel placed in front of him. Nigel joined him on the couch. "It's just that Draco Malfoy always knows how to wind me up. Ever since we were kids. He's always..." Harry looked up at Nigel and smiled self-deprecatingly. "You don't want to hear this shite do you?" he asked.

"Not to worry, I'm a bartender. I hear this 'shite' all day."

"Which is why you don't need me giving you more of it on your time off."

"Harry, you have problems too. You're no different from anyone else."

"Brilliant, glad that's sorted," Harry said sulkily, glaring at him.

"You know what I mean," Nigel said reproachfully, refilling Harry's glass. "You're not putting me out. I want to know what's going on with you."

Harry, still pouting, said nothing. He hadn't wanted to think of himself as just another punter. He hadn't wanted to think of himself as "nothing serious" to Draco either. But was he just being selfish? What gave him the right to think he could be possessive of everyone?

"Beating yourself up again?" Nigel asked lightly, correctly reading his expression.

"I'm good at that."

"How about 'feeling sorry for yourself?'"

"Oh, tops there too." He paused. "Nigel, I sort… of told Draco I was seeing someone."  
"Are you?"

"I'm not sure. Am I?" Pointed look.

Nigel sighed and Harry felt his heart sink. "Harry, I really enjoy our time together. I think about you more than I should."

"But…?" Harry prompted.

"'But' nothing. That's all I have so far. As for what else or what is next, I don't tend to think that far ahead. And I like it that way. I like what we have without labels, plans, hang-ups, or, most importantly, exclusivity. I was under the impression that you felt the same."

"I guess I do," Harry said, still not completely mollified.

Nigel set down his own untouched drink and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What do you want me to say, Harry? That you're special?"

"That'd be nice," Harry said, looking down at his drink, hating how needy he sounded.

"Of course you are. And not just because of who you are. You're important to me. And," he added with a grin, "you're sodding gorgeous."

"Keep going," Harry grinned.

"Mmm, you're fantastic in bed as well." Nigel put his hands on Harry's face, and pulled it towards his own. Harry succumbed to Nigel immediately. The kiss was deep and sensuous and Harry moaned at the intensity. He wasted no time disrobing the barkeeper and running his hands all over his body, stopping only to wrap his fingers firmly around Nigel's cock. He heard a soft moan emit from his lover. Pleased, Harry fondled his bollocks and let his hand drift further back towards his arse.

"Where's the lube?" he asked Nigel.

"Oh, I don't think so," Nigel said with a grin. "I think it's my turn tonight."

Harry felt a wave of both desire and fear course through him. It was intoxicating. He nodded.

"The only question is, do you want it rough or gentle?" Nigel asked, stroking Harry's shaft.

"Gentle," Harry said instantly. And with a flash, he realised that the only person he wanted rough treatment from was Draco.

Fortunately, he had not been facing Nigel when this epiphany had hit, so Nigel had not noticed a change in his face. And also fortunate was that he was aroused enough to be able to force it from his mind and focus on the man who was with him at this moment.

Nigel poured some of the lubricant onto his fingers and smiled at Harry. He massaged the cleft of his arse until he was stroking against his opening. "Remember when my tongue was in here," Nigel whispered to Harry.   
Harry closed his eyes and let out a breath.

"Clearly, you do," he said with a smile, continuing to massage Harry's pucker.

"Slide a finger into me," Harry panted.

"In due time," Nigel said. "You wanted me to be gentle, remember?"

"Yes, but I didn't want you to tease me to death," Harry managed.

"That's half the fun, love." Nigel continued the stroking, increasing the pressure until he was almost dipping his finger into Harry. Each time he touched the opening, he paused just to watch Harry writhe. Harry's cock was rock hard and he reached around to touch himself, but Nigel batted his hand away, giving him a reproachful look. Again, he languorously stroked down Harry's back, pausing again at his sensitive opening. Nigel then ran the tip of his finger back and forth across it rapidly, teasingly.

"Oh, Merlin! Nigel! Fuck me!" Harry begged. He was thrashing a little now, bucking back and forth as he felt the tickling against his opening.

"Not yet, darling, I'm having far too much fun watching you squirm." He continued his ministrations. "I could do this forever."

"You damn well better not," Harry groaned. "Please, Nigel. Just one finger inside me?"

Nigel complied and Harry let out an almost animalistic groan of pleasure. He again reached for his cock, and again, Nigel removed his hand.

"Trust me, we'll get there," Nigel promised. He slid another finger inside Harry who let out a small sound of pain. Nigel waited until Harry had adjusted to the new intrusion, then slowly slid his fingers in and out of him. As Harry's excitement mounted, Nigel thrusted his fingers harder.

"I'm ready, Nigel! Please!"

Wordlessly, Nigel put in a third finger. Harry was so tight that it took him a bit longer this time to relax enough for Nigel to continue.

"Are you ready for me, Harry, love?" Nigel asked hoarsely.

"Yes. Bloody hell!"

Nigel helped Harry reposition himself so that they were facing and he guided himself slowly into Harry from beneath. Harry automatically arched his back so that Nigel could get a better angle, and Nigel held Harry's hips as he pumped in and out of him, then grabbed Harry's cock between them. Soon, both men were screaming in orgasm. When they were finished, they fell apart on the bed.

After a moment, Harry turned to look at Nigel who wore a sated expression that (Harry guessed) probably mirrored his own.

"I guess I'll be off," Harry said, remembering their conversation. No sense in trying to pretend this was anything more than it was.

"So soon?" Nigel asked sleepily.

Harry studied him for a moment. "Sorry, did you want to cuddle?" he asked trying to keep his voice neutral.

"Harry…"

"No, it's fine, I better be getting on. Classes tomorrow."

"See you soon?"

"Sure, yeah," he said vaguely. He gave Nigel a quick nod, and left the flat, his brain awash with conflicting emotions.   
Harry wasn't entirely surprised to see Dean waiting outside his chamber. Nor was he displeased. It really was good to see Dean, perhaps the only man that he could actually talk to about some of the things going on with him in his life. And Harry had forgotten how attractive the man was.

"Look, Dean, I can already tell you I have no energy to have it off with you too," he said with a grin.

"Did you ever think maybe I'm the only one in the castle that might NOT want to have it off with you?" Dean asked raising an eyebrow. But there was more than a little flirtatiousness behind that grin.

"Well, thank Merlin for that," Harry replied with a grin of his own. "I'm done with everyone lining up outside my door every night. It's tiresome." Both men laughed. Harry couldn't help but notice that Dean looked incredibly sexy when he smiled. "Come in?" Harry asked him in a low, soft tone.

Dean met his smouldering gaze. "For a bit, yeah."

Once in his chambers, he offered Dean a cuppa. Soon, the two were settled on a sofa, both with mugs of tea.

"Still can't believe you're queer." Dean remarked with a smile once they had settled in on the sofa.

"Not sure I'd go that far," Harry said quickly. Though he couldn't remember the last time he had fancied a woman.

He must not have been hiding his dubious expression because Dean whistled softly. "This must be new, right? This… discovery?"

Harry scowled at his perception.

"Am I to understand that it was _Draco Malfoy_ that brought it out?"

"Watch it," Harry said warningly.

Dean patted Harry's hand apologetically. "Sorry, mate, it's just a bit of a surprise. You two hated each other in school."

"I should hope so. He was a Death Eater," Harry scowled, but didn't remove his hand.

"Come off it, you hated him long before he got involved with that lot. It's just surprising is all."

Harry relaxed. "Yes, it is that," he admitted. "And you're right. It is confusing. And I can't say I'll really ever stop hating Malfoy," his eyes darkened.

"The war is over," Dean reminded him.

"So everyone seems to tell me. However, I spent the last five years of my life seeing some pretty horrific things that Dark Wizards have done. Any single one of them could become the next Voldemort. Who's to say that the Malfoys won't all end up following that person?"

"So you don't think Draco's reformed?" Dean tried to sound neutral, but Harry could hear the tightness in his voice.

"I think that even someone who has reformed can slip back into old habits, no matter how good they are in bed," Harry said darkly.

"He is fantastic," Dean agreed and the two men grinned, breaking the tension.

Just then, they heard a knock on the door. Harry prayed it wasn't Draco. He was still upset with him and not quite ready to forgive and forget, not when so many bad memories had suddenly sprung to the surface.

"Harry?" he heard Hermione say.

"Come on in, Herm," Harry said.

Hermione opened the door. She was carrying a bottle of wine.

"I suspected I might find you in here," she said, smiling at Dean.

"Oh really?" Dean asked mildly. And Harry knew that he was wondering if Hermione knew about Harry being gay.

"She never brings me wine, so I'd take her at her word," Harry grinned.

Hermione smiled and produced three wine glasses out of thin air, and they watched as the bottle poured its own contents into them.

"It's a wonder there isn't an obesity problem in the wizarding world," Harry commented. "If you can use a charm to do everything, you never have to move."

"Harry, don't be ridiculous," Hermione said in her familiar patient tone. "It's much easier to solve obesity in the wizarding world than in the muggle world. There's a charm for that too."

Harry shook his head in wonder and took his wine glass.

"To old friends," Hermione said, raising her glass.

"Old friends," Harry and Dean echoed and they all drank.

"So how are you getting on?" Hermione asked Dean, taking a seat in a chair across from where they had been sitting.

"Brilliantly, thanks. Everyone has been incredibly accommodating."

"We'd love it if you'd consider a position here," Hermione said enthusiastically.

"Did McGonagall put you up to that?" Harry asked, amused.

"No," Hermione said, somewhat hurt.

"Aww, thanks, Hermione," Dean said affectionately. "But I need to finish my book first. Going out to the Malfoys at the end of the week."

"I'm coming with you," Harry said instantly. Both of his friends looked at him.

"Harry, the Malfoys have been very gracious," Dean said cautiously. "I don't want to… upset them." He cringed, knowing full well his choice of words could have been better.

"Is Malfoy going with you?" Harry demanded.

"Yes."

"Then it's settled. So am I."

"Harry…" Hermione began.

But Harry cut across her. "Did you two forget that I'm still a licensed Auror? You're going to a house that was pivotal to Dark Wizardry not so long ago. This is entirely in my jurisdiction. I'm going as a representative of the Ministry as your advocate. That's final."

"Fine," Dean said with a sigh. Then he added with a grin, "You're kind of sexy when you pull rank."   
Hermione laughed. "Don't let Draco hear that. He may get jealous," she said brazenly.

"You… know?" Harry asked hesitantly, trying to gauge her attitude. But she didn't seem to care one way or the other.

For a moment, he wondered what that said about her relationship with Ginny.

"Of course she knows," Dean said. "Doesn't she always know everything?"

"True," he said smiling. After a moment, his expression changed. "Listen, don't tell Ron, okay? I mean I'm not trying to keep anything from him, I just don't…"

"…you don't know what it means yet?" she suggested.

Impulsively, Harry hugged her. "Bang on," he said relieved.

"How long have you known about Harry?" Dean asked her curiously.

"Since the Quidditch World Cup." She smirked at Harry. "You couldn't take your eyes off McGowen. When he took his shirt off at the end of the match, you were, let's just say, quite enthusiastic."

"Oh hell," he said, his face turning red.

"Don't worry, I don't think anyone noticed. But when I saw you checking out Draco…" she chuckled. "Well, it's no wonder you two fought so much, budding sexual repression and all of that."

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"But what about Ginny?" Dean asked. Instantly, Harry looked guilty.

"If I remember correctly," Hermione said thoughtfully, "she left with her Quidditch team with a firm 'we're not exclusive.'"

"How do you know that?" Harry asked dumbly. Hermione just looked at him. "Okay, she told you. And yeah, she said that but I didn't realize that meant…" his eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Oh dear lord."

It always amused Harry when Hermione used muggle phrases. But she and Ron were actually both much more involved in the muggle world than Harry had been the past few years, what with Ron's successful real estate development firm which served both the muggle and wizarding worlds. Ron had sworn he'd never be poor, and now he never would be.

"I will never understand women," he said, almost to himself.

"It doesn't appear that you will need to worry about that in the near future," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, I'm finished with Malfoy, that much is certain," Harry said, glowering.

"We'll see how long that lasts," Hermione said in her all-too-familiar infuriatingly knowing voice.


	15. Chapter 15

For the rest of the week, Harry tried to both avoid Draco and spend time with Dean. Since Dean and Draco were mates, this wasn't easy. Fortunately, Neville didn't get on with Draco, so Harry tried to make sure he was around them as well. This would usually cause Draco to leave. Harry wondered if Draco or Draco had been noticing the not-so-subtle teasing looks that he and Dean were shooting each other all week long.

One day after breakfast, Dean asked Harry if he could sit in on one of his classes.

"That'd be great," Harry said. "Would you mind maybe sharing some of your experiences with the students? I think it'd be good for them to hear real-world applications of Dark Art defence."

"Knew you'd be a good teacher," Dean said approvingly. "You always were." They both thought back to the days of Dumbledore's Army when Harry had taught his classmates how to battle. Many of them survived the war only because of Harry's instruction.

In his morning class, Harry introduced Dean and let him share some of his experiences in the war. Once or twice, Harry worried that the students might grow weary of hearing two old buddies rehashing their glory days, but they were rapt with attention at Dean's every word. He ended up taking up the entire period.

"Sorry, mate, didn't mean to natter on."

"No, it was great," Harry said enthusiastically. "In fact, can you share some of that with my other students?"

So for the rest of the day, Dean ended up retelling the same story to all of the students. He was more graphic with the older students, Harry noticed. He had been a teacher, he was used to having children as an audience. Still, Harry marvelled at his natural ability to be at the head of a classroom.

At lunch, Dean and Harry joined Hermione and Neville at the head table in the great hall. Professor McGonagall, who was of course, also at the table turned to Dean.

"I understand you made quite an impression on Professor Potter's students."

"They're a good bunch of kids," Dean said modestly.

"If you're ever looking for a new teaching position, we can certainly find something for you at Hogwarts," she said with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Professor, I appreciate that. But I think my book is going to keep me quite busy for the foreseeable future."

 

After the last student had left his classroom and lessons were over for the day, Harry turned to his friend. "Hey, Dean? Can I take you to dinner tonight? You know, to thank you for today." It then dawned on Harry that what he had just said sounded an awful lot like...

"Are you asking me on a date?" Dean asked mildly, his eyebrows raised.

"No, I..." Harry trailed off. Was he? Well, why not? he thought. "Yes. Yes I am," he said with a nervous smile.

"In that case, I'd be delighted." Dean looked around, and, seeing that they were alone, leaned in and kissed Harry. Harry immediately responded and wrapped his arms around Dean, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He heard Dean moan as their tongues touched and felt the length of Dean's stiffening cock against his own.

After a moment, Dean broke the kiss.

"We could skip the meal," Harry said softly. He rested his hand on the back of Dean's neck and stroked his hair.   
Dean smiled and closed his eyes briefly. "Mmm, no, I think you owe me that dinner date," he said, his own hand resting on Harry's hip.

"You're as bad as a woman," Harry teased. "Fine, we'll go through the motions." He leaned in and whispered. "And then I'll shag you senseless."

"I don't know, Harry, I've been doing this a bit longer than you. Maybe you're the one that needs a class tonight," Dean grinned and grabbed Harry's bum playfully. "I'll meet you in the courtyard at half past six."

"Perfect. See you then."

At exactly six thirty, Harry arrived in the courtyard. Dean was already there. He looked fantastic in a pair of tight jeans and a crisp white, button-down shirt. Harry smiled lasciviously at him.

"Now now, musn't get into that in a public place," Dean said with a smile. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see." Harry smiled.  
Once they were off the grounds, Harry Apparated them to his favourite Italian restaurant in Glasgow, Ristorante La Fiorentina.

"I'm impressed! This is a right and proper date," Dean said after Harry had ordered them some wine. "Tell me you didn't take Draco here.

"No, I never took Draco anywhere. We just sort of..."

"...never left the bedroom, eh? That sounds like him."

"Is that odd to you at all? That you and Draco… then me and Draco, and now you and me…"

Dean laughed. "Not really. The wizarding community is small. The gay wizarding community is even smaller. You'll see."

Would he? "I'm still not convinced I'm gay," Harry admitted. "I mean sure, Draco and I… but that could have been a fluke."

"What about this 'other man' you mentioned? And, honestly Harry, what about me? You've been dying to take me to bed since I got to Hogwarts."

"Oh, and you were completely repulsed by the idea?" Harry returned, smirking.

"I've been dying to take you to bed for much longer, love." Dean's voice had dropped and he took Harry's hand. Harry looked into his eyes with longing and wondered again why they were bothering with dinner.

"How long have you, er, been... out?" He stumbled over the phrase he had never used.

"Since I started teaching at Durmstrang. I was married you know."

"Professor McGonagall mentioned something about that, yeah. You and Malfoy had an affair while you were both teaching at Durmstrang, yeah? Good to know he hasn't changed," Harry said sullenly, silently cursing Malfoy.

"That wasn't quite the way of it," Dean said quietly. Harry focussed his attention back on Dean.

"Oh?"

"I sort of... seduced him."

"You? But I thought Draco..."

"Harry, you're going to have to get this idea out of your head that Draco is always up to no good, interested only in his own gain. I comforted him through a very dark time in his life. He's still coming to terms with who he is. Harry, do you understand that he has to completely reinvent himself?"

"How do you mean?"

"He hates his family for what they did, but he's still a Malfoy, and that name meant a lot before it was tarnished irreparably in the war. So where does that leave a man who wanted to be anyone but who he is?"  
Harry was silent as he processed this. "I never thought of that," he said finally. "He always acts so… well, come on, Dean, you know he can be a complete tosser."

Dean laughed. "That he can. But that's just his pride. And you know something? I let him have that. It's really all he has left."

"What's he got to be proud of?" Harry asked coldly.

"Exactly," Dean said giving him a hard look. "Have some compassion, Harry. We won the war. Us. Not the Death Eaters. Think of the past all you like, but consider what Draco has been through since the war has been over."

"He mentioned that he had a Healer…," Harry said, remembering their conversation. He realised with a pang of guilt that Draco had been talking about getting out from under his family's name when he was confiding in Harry about his muggle therapist.

"Oh? I wasn't aware. Good, I'm glad of that." Dean too seemed off in his own thoughts. Harry studied him for a moment.

"You two were in love, weren't you?" he asked softly.

Dean smiled wistfully. "I suppose we were in a way. We were both discovering this side of ourselves, this new attraction, and it was a bit overwhelming. We were great while we lasted, but in the end, it's like trying to be with your school sweetheart when you're really just discovering who you are."

"I cannot relate to that at all," Harry said bitterly.

"So you and Ginny...?" Dean asked cautiously.

Harry considered that for a moment. "Me and Ginny have been sort-of doing our own things for awhile now," he said finally. "And neither one of us is really making the effort to change that."

"Fair enough. But I suggest we quit talking about our exes, what do you say?" He leaned across the table and gave Harry a kiss.

The two spoke amiably about what they had been up to since the war, Harry sharing his life as an Auror, Dean filling him in on Durmstrang. From time to time, they would touch hands or some such flirtatious gesture, but for the most part, their talk was simply two old chums reconnecting. Harry had always liked Dean, and they had always got on, once Ginny had broken up with Dean.

Then Dean's face clouded over.

"What is it?"

"Harry," he began hesitantly. But he stopped. Harry's was instantly on-guard. Whatever Dean was about to say, he knew Harry wasn't going to like it.

"Out with it, Thomas," Harry said.

"I need ask you a favour."

"Yes?" Harry said, not entirely encouragingly.

"I need you to not come with us to Malfoy Manor tomorrow," Dean said and let out a breath.

"Out of the question," Harry said instantly.

"Harry, please just listen!" Dean's insistence softened Harry. He continued. "Draco hasn't spoken to his parents in years. If they have to communicate, they use owls, and that's only happened a handful of times. This trip is going to be very hard for him. I think your presence might…complicate things."

"Does he know that I'm going with you two?"

"Yes, I told him."

"And what was his reaction."

"Honestly? It was defeated. He can't stop you legally from going, and he knows that."

Harry thought on this. "Tell Malfoy he doesn't have to go, that I will accompany you. Then, everyone is happy," he said practically.

"It's not that simple. The Malfoy's would only allow me to come if Draco comes as well. Narcissa misses her son a great deal. So you see, Harry, this is going to be a bit of a touchy situation, perhaps more than a little family drama."

Harry snorted. "Their idea of 'family drama' tends to get people killed." He regretted the words instantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," he said quickly.

Dean said nothing, but stared at Harry in frustration and sadness. Harry couldn't meet his eyes, there was so much disappointment in them.

"Don't look at me like that," Harry pleaded quietly. "I apologised, right?"

Dean said nothing for a long while. "This could potentially be a very painful trip for Draco, Harry. And if you force your presence on that family."

"You're right, I won't go. But just… Dean, seriously, be careful, alright?"

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you."

But it only made Harry feel like a giant prat for forcing the issue in the first place.

 

After the conversation, Harry paid for the meal and they apparated back to Hogsmeade. The walk back to Hogwart's was silent. When they reached the castle, they both seemed to know that the night was over.

"I better be off to tell Draco," Dean said after giving Harry a quick kiss on the cheek. "It will be a load off of his mind."

"Let me tell him," Harry said in a strange voice. "I need to clear the air a bit on that front."

"Good. Thank you again for dinner," Dean said warmly. But Harry only nodded distractedly.

 

Harry knocked on Draco's chambers in the Slytherin wing. His mind was oddly still.

"Ah, if it isn't Dean's baby-sitter, coming to ensure that the big bad Malfoy's don't eat him."  
Harry smiled sardonically. "Good evening to you too, Professor."

"What do you want Potter?"

"To tell you I won't be going tomorrow. And to apologise." He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "Draco, may I come in?" he asked softly.

He saw Draco sneer, but knowing now that it was a nervous defence mechanism, Harry only felt more sorry for him.

"Tomorrow is going to be rough, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Draco's sneer faltered for a moment.

"Please? I can even conjure some good brandy from my quarters?" he said with a grin.

"I'll certainly need it if I'm to converse with you for any length of time," Draco said, relenting.

Harry grinned at Draco's lofty tone which was far more preferable to the snarling voice of defensiveness and fear.  
Draco opened the door. "Come in if you must," he said in a bored tone.

Harry stepped inside.


	16. Chapter 16

Once inside, Harry fulfilled his promise to procure the brandy.

"You look a fright," Harry commented as Draco poured each of them two finger's worth of the brandy.

Draco eyed him, irritated.

"When's the last time you spoke with them."

"What, Dean didn't fill you in?" Draco snapped.

Harry chose that moment to stay silent. Hermione would have been proud that he held his tongue.

"I saw you two walking together to Hogsmeade, obviously for some sort of torrid rendezvous." Draco's face turned red as even he realized how absurdly jealous he sounded.

"Are you still in love with him?" Harry asked softly.

"No, you stupid git, I..." but Draco stopped. "You're both rutting do-gooders, both determined to save the world around you to simply puff yourselves up. You're bloody perfect for each other."

Harry laughed. "Draco, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but as of late, I haven't exactly been in the mind to settle down."

"That much is certain. Honestly, Potter, shagging anyone who fancies you for half an instant."

Harry wondered if Draco had a point. He hadn't been able to keep his hands to himself with three different men now since the beginning of term. "It's not that," Harry said lamely.

"Isn't it?"

"No, I just..." Harry stopped, trying to decide how to respond. How had the conversation gotten back to him? He looked up at Draco's face questioningly, and that's when he saw it. The sneer. Instantly, Harry realized what Draco was doing. Harry waited a moment to gather his thoughts, then repeated, "How long has it been since you've spoken to your mum and dad?"

"None of your business, Potter," Malfoy snapped coldly, his familiar defences firmly back in place.

"Maybe not," Harry said calmly, "but as a Ministry Auror, if I'm to let you take Dean, an Orders of Merlin War Hero, into a known Dark Wizarding stronghold alone, I'm going to need to know some basics. How long has it been since you've spoken to them and can they be trusted?"

Harry watched Draco's face and wished again that Hermione were there to see him. He was changing the game, asking Draco for his opinion. He was giving Draco back some power, some dignity.

"Draco," he continued, hoping he wasn't pressing his luck, "I just want to make sure that he… and you… are safe," he said softly. "You know them. I don't. I need to know your honest opinion. _Can they be trusted_?"

Instantly, the wind went out of Draco's sails. It took everything Harry had not to give himself a triumphant thump on the back for finally realising that the way to deal with Malfoy was to use the one trait he had never shown Draco in school: humility.

"I don't know," he finally mumbled, looking down.

"Should I go with you two?"

"Maybe you should... actually, no," Draco corrected himself, his voice sounding stronger. "Dean'll be fine," he added, meeting Harry's eyes. This time, there was no anger. "Mum and Dad may have cocked up royally in the past, but they know their places now. And they wouldn't dream of being anything but exceedingly courteous to Dean. They know his position in the new order," Draco smiled wryly.

Harry couldn't tell if he was being sardonic about the term "new order" or about his parents being forced to suffer out their lives on the losing side of the Wizarding War.

"What about you? Will you be okay?" Harry put a hand on Draco's arm, half expecting it to be shrugged off. But it wasn't.

"I'll... manage," Draco said with a strange, far-off look that made Harry just want to hold him and beg him to confide in him.

"I could still come with you," Harry said impulsively. He moved closer to Draco. "I promise, I wouldn't say a word. You could even claim that I had insisted I come."

"Didn't you?" Draco retorted. But it was said with some amusement.

"Well, sure when I was being a ponce," Harry returned. Draco grinned. "But this way, I can be there for you. For moral support. And you can pretend you had no choice in the matter."

"For... me?"

"And Dean," Harry added quickly, thinking he was scaring Draco. But when he saw Draco's face fall, he couldn't help but blurt, "Sod it, you know I meant 'for you', Draco!" he said exasperatedly.

Draco smiled, a genuine smile. It was so radiant and so unlike anything Harry had seen, he was unable to speak for a moment. This was Draco when he was happy. And this was the first time Harry had ever seen it. It was breathtaking and beautiful. But in an instant, Draco's confident, amused expression had returned and Harry was glad. The utter bliss on his once-enemy-now-…something's face had been more than a little disconcerting.

"All right, I agree to those terms with one small addendum," Draco said matter-of-factly, his eyes still twinkling.  
"Anything."

Nothing could have prepared Harry for Draco's proviso.

"I get to tell my parents that you're my boyfriend and that we're in love."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Draco, I'm fond of you, certainly, but..."

Draco laughed. "You giant horse's arse. We're just going to tell them that."

Harry nodded slowly with realisation.

"Catching up now?" Draco's eyes were practically glittering with malevolence.

"You really have it in for your mum and dad. You? In love with me!? That would absolutely destroy them. "

"Wouldn't it?"

If Harry had ever had a doubt that Draco should have been placed in any other house, those musings were completely eradicated by that expression.

"You're completely mental," Harry said wonderingly.

"So you agree?"

"Agree? I think it's brilliant!"


End file.
